


Breath of Fire

by kelleyj17



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 80,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelleyj17/pseuds/kelleyj17
Summary: Cloud and Tifa are happy and Denzel and Marlene are growing up. Finally, they have the stability they so desperately needed. But when Cloud has a training accident with fire materia, Denzel begins to understand that his hero is not invincible. At the same time, the former "Geostigma Children" have not been left completely unscathed. With unexplained monster attacks and teenage rivalries, the fragile community of Midgar Edge begins to erode.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 35
Kudos: 152





	1. Training

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few years back at the request of my 9-year-old son. He came up with the premise and resolution, but over the next several months, the story ended up taking on a life of its own and spawning a sequel (still in progress). This one is dedicated to my family.

"Watch your feet, Denzel," Cloud called across the training room. "You've gotta keep them apart or your balance will be compromised."

Denzel stifled a grunt of frustration. He really was excited that Cloud had finally agreed to teach him how to fight, and he was even letting him use Tsurugi today! But did he have to be so critical and naggy?

Cloud walked casually up to the boy and disarmed him with an easy swing. Denzel ran after the sword and Cloud grimaced. "Denz, you can't turn your back on your opponent like that."

Gathering the sword with his face turned away, Denzel couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore. "It's just _you_ , Cloud. You're not going to hurt me."

Cloud pushed back blond spikes with his hand and leveled the boy with a stern look. "I thought you wanted to learn for real, Denzel. Otherwise we're just playing."

His young trainee instantly regretted his words. "I know, Cloud. I'm sorry. This is just frustrating."

"Do you want to call it quits for today?"

"No way!" Denzel wasn't sure when or even if Cloud would ever let him use his hallowed sword again, and he didn't want to give it up while he had it. "Can you show me how to split it? I'm just using it like a regular sword, and I can practice that with one of those." He gestured to the plain, worn practice sword in Cloud's hand.

Cloud frowned. Denzel had been begging to be allowed to train with the fusion sword, but he really wasn't ready for it. It was too heavy for him to swing effectively, and as a rule, Cloud didn't like to use it for training – the wear and tear it caused to the blade was reason enough, but it was also incredibly time consuming to clean it up afterwards. He'd agreed to let Denzel use it today, hoping it would be an incentive, because he could see the kid was getting bored and frustrated. But he didn't want him to learn any bad habits, and letting him swing around a too-heavy sword had made it hard for Denzel to pay attention to his stance and grip.

"Not until you get your footwork right," Cloud said. "Let's do it again."

Denzel knew he should feel privileged to have the hero of Midgar training him, and he was, but at the same time he was _just Cloud_. He'd raised him since he was a young kid, since before Denzel was old enough to really understand the things Cloud had accomplished. Even so, Denzel had practically worshiped the man who rescued him, who gave him a home and a family and a reason to live.

He loved the way he moved with a sword in his hand. He loved the ease with which he maneuvered Fenrir. Both were like an extension of his body, which he controlled as easily as breathing. Denzel loved the way he carried himself, the quiet way he protected the people he cared about. He loved the look of determination he got on his face, the unparalleled focus in battle.

But over time, Denzel had gotten…well, just _used_ to Cloud. He was a perceptive boy, and he just couldn't understand how someone of Cloud's abilities and accomplishments could still harbor so much self-doubt.

Now Denzel was 12, had been training for months, and Cloud was still treating him like a kid who didn't know the blade from the hilt.

Still, he bit his lip and tried to focus on what Cloud was telling him. He endured when Cloud kicked at his feet to move them into the right position and adjusted his grip. He did want to be as good as his mentor someday, but he was impatient to get to the fun stuff. Why couldn't he just learn the technical stuff as he went along?

He was relieved when Tifa finally popped her head into the practice room. "You guys hungry?"

Cloud looked up at her. "We're still—"

"Starving!" Denzel interrupted, passing the sword to Cloud as he ran by.

"Denz, you can't just leave it—Ugh. Forget it." The boy was already gone.

Tifa gave the blond a sympathetic smile. "He's still a kid, Cloud. You've gotta cut him some slack."

He slid First Tsurugi into his harness, along with the worn and dented practice sword he'd been using. "He's the one who wanted to learn. If he's not even dedicated enough—"

"I know, I know," she interrupted. She walked over and mussed his blond spikes. "Not everyone can be as exceptional as you." She gave him a lingering kiss, watching the frustration melt from his face and grinning as she walked away. He never could stay angry when she did that.

Even though he hadn't been allowed to split the fusion sword, Denzel could hardly wait to tell his friends about it. After all, even in one piece it was a massive beast of a sword. They would have to be impressed that he could wield it at all.

Walking to school the next morning, he spotted the twins, Jason and Jesse, ahead of him.

"Hey guys, wait up!" Denzel called.

The boys looked back and waited as he jogged to catch up to them. "Hey Denzel," Jason said with a friendly smile.

Denzel only made it three steps before he had to tell them his news. "Hey, you guys remember how I told you that Cloud was training me to fight with swords? Well last night, I got to use First Tsurugi! It's this huge sword, almost as big as me, super heavy, and it can be split into 6 smaller swords. It's _so_ cool."

Jesse scoffed. "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. Why would anyone even need that? You can only use one sword at a time. Why would you need six? Does Cloud have six arms from all that mako or something?"

Denzel frowned. "Don't be stupid. Of course he only has two arms. He can use them both though, so sometimes he uses two swords at a time."

"Ok, fine, he can use two swords," Jesse said dismissively. "What's he gonna do with six?"

"Well, sometimes he—"

"And who's the sword maker?" Jason interrupted. "Who would even think to make something like that, and who would buy it? No one would! There's no point."

Denzel was frustrated. This conversation was not going at all the way he had expected. "He made it himself," he said, scowling.

Jesse laughed mockingly. "Oh, now he's a blacksmith, too? He must just be a delivery boy for the money, then." Jason cackled like it was the funniest thing he ever heard.

"And what's with his name?" Jesse continued. "Cloud. Is he light and fluffy?"

"It's…just a name," Denzel muttered. "It's not like he picked it out himself."

They finally reached the school, and Denzel was relieved to have an excuse to get away from them. What's their problem today, anyway? They weren't usually quite so toxic, but they seemed to get a little salty whenever Cloud came up.

* * *

Because Denzel had run off and left the swords without cleaning or oiling them last time, Cloud had told him he wouldn't be allowed to use Tsurugi until he 'learned to take care of his things.' He had handed Denzel a beat-up practice sword and went back to their drills. The boy was annoyed and impatient, making beginner mistakes on things that he should have already mastered.

After a short practice, where both boy and man became increasingly irritated with each other, Cloud knocked the sword from his hand with more force than usual and stopped Denzel before he could retrieve it. "Your head's not in this today, Denz. There's no point in practicing right now." With a stern look, he held his practice sword out to the kid. "You owe me for last time. Clean these up right."

Denzel took the sword with a scowl, sticking his tongue out at Cloud's back as he left the room. He knew it was childish, but he didn't care. He was fuming. He dragged his feet across the soft dirt floor and glared at the worn-out practice sword that had been knocked from his hand. Didn't Cloud remember what it was like to be a kid? He didn't have to be so hard on him all the time.

He swung halfheartedly at the sword on the ground with the one in his hand. It made a satisfying clanging sound. Denzel always seemed to be on the receiving end of that sound, usually losing his grip on the handle whenever he heard it. It felt good to be the one sending out the vibrations of the clashing metal. He swung harder, sending the sword flying into the wall. He imagined that it was a real battle, that the battered sword was an actual monster, and he smacked it around the room with his own sword.

_The monster roared in pain with each well-placed strike and swatted at Denzel, but the boy easily dodged his clumsy swipes. He rolled between the monster's legs and made another perfect slash on its belly, then pounced on its back, knocking it down with a hard smack of the hilt on its head._

_He pounded the thoroughly battered creature to a pulp on the ground with a satisfying cacophony of sound. He raised his arms over his head in victory and danced around the fallen beast._

Smiling at his own imaginary fight, Denzel found that some of his anger had abated. He picked up the swords and took them into the back room to clean them. Despite his frustration, he really did want Cloud to be proud of him. He thoroughly cleaned and oiled the blades as he had been taught. As he was finishing the second sword, his cloth caught on something. Peering closer, Denzel tensed when he saw the small chip in the materia slot in the base of the blade. He swore out loud, knowing that neither of the adults were near enough to hear him. He probably shouldn't have been batting the sword around like that.

 _Who cares?_ he thought. _Why does Cloud have to be so picky about them anyway? He has so many. I bet he won't even notice._ He felt some of his anger returning. _And he'll probably never let me practice with materia anyway, at the rate we're going._ Even so, Denzel put the sword up on to the rack with the materia slots facing the wall. Just in case.

* * *

It had been several months since Denzel had committed his transgression with First Tsurugi. He had all but given up hope of being allowed to use it again when Cloud walked out of the back room with the giant sword in his hand. Denzel watched him hopefully. Cautiously, his mentor offered the hilt to him. His eyes lit up as he took it reverently.

"You're letting me use it today? Awesome! I swear I'll take good care of it, Cloud. I'll clean it up really good and everything." He held the sword up steadily and bounced on the balls of his feet.

Cloud smiled down at him fondly. "I know you will. But remember, you'll have to separate all 6 blades and clean them individually. That's why I usually don't use it for practice."

"Does that mean you're going to teach me how to split it?" He practically bounced on his toes with eagerness.

Cloud's lips quirked. "I suppose I'll have to, won't I?"

"Yessss!!" 

"Ok. The first latch is right here. This will let you take off the smaller side blades." Cloud popped it off easily, catching both blades. "See? And then to put it back together –" he snapped them quickly back in place. "Now you try."

Determination warring with excitement, he pulled at the latch he'd seen Cloud use, but it didn't budge. He gritted his teeth, pulling harder. "It's stuck!"

Cloud reached over and snapped it easily. "Like that."

Snapping them back into place, he held it out to Denzel again. The boy tried again, positioning his hands exactly the way Cloud did. He used all of his strength, cognizant of the man watching him closely.

"Maybe you're not quite strong enough yet," Cloud said.

Although he'd said it kindly, tears burned behind Denzel's eyes. Shame ate away at him and he redirected his frustration, suddenly furious at the glowing blue eyes. "Of course it's easy for you!" he spat.

Taken aback by the venom in the kid's voice, Cloud raised his eyebrows.

Denzel's eyes narrowed on his. "I know why your eyes glow the way they do. Jesse told me. He said that people who were in SOLDIER got mako injections to make them stronger and faster. He said they don't do them anymore though, so no one else can even touch those people. I'm never gonna be as strong as you, no matter how much I practice! I shouldn't even bother." He shoved the sword back at Cloud and stalked out of the room, determined not to let him see the tears.

Cloud sat there in silence, staring at his sword. He hadn't thought about the mako in a long time. It was just a part of him, something he couldn't change. Even if mako injections were still possible, he would never subject the kid to that treatment. The mako caused cellular mutation, which prevented the rejection of the Jenova cells. Although few outside of Shinra knew it, the Jenova cells were actually what gave SOLDIERs their strength; mako was just a catalyst, and the distinctive glow in their eyes was a bi-product of the mako. No one knew what the long term effects might be, but he doubted it was anything good. Most people in that line of work didn't live long enough to find out. Besides that, it had been agonizingly painful, like acid eating away from the inside and the outside of his body at the same time.

His heart ached for the kid, though. He knew how it felt to be small and weak. He sighed and stood up, dusting off his pants. There wasn't much cleaning to do, since they hadn't even started practicing, but Cloud took his time putting away the equipment and straightening the room. He needed some time to figure out what to say, and he wanted to give Denzel some time to cool off.

* * *

Denzel closed himself in his tiny bedroom, wanting to be alone for a while. At least he didn't have to share it with Marlene anymore. Cloud had insisted on putting up another wall last year, splitting the small room into two and adding a second door from the hallway. He had told Tifa it wasn't appropriate for them to share a room anymore. He had given her that _look_ , and Tifa seemed to understand whatever Cloud was saying with his eyes. Denzel really hated when they did that – communicated without words. They understood each other, but neither of the kids ever did. As far as Denzel was concerned, if they needed to say something private to each other, then they should be talking in private.

Denzel had begged to be given Cloud's office. Cloud always slept in Tifa's room now anyway. But Tifa said they still needed the office, and that adults needed space to themselves sometimes, too. Cloud had given him a little smile and told him he could sleep in there whenever it wasn't being used. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't Denzel's own space.

At least in his tiny room he could have some privacy without Marlene barging in. He plopped down on the bed and grabbed his headphones, blasting the loudest, angriest music he had. It fueled his anger as he thought about how unfair life was. Why was he even bothering to learn this stuff? He'd never use it for real, and there was no way he would ever be as strong or as good as the hero who had saved the planet. What was the point?

Rather than calming down, by the time Cloud poked his head in the door, Denzel was even more worked up. He ripped the headphones off. "Don't you know how to knock?" he demanded rudely.

From the look on Cloud's face, Denzel knew he had gone too far. Cloud wasn't terribly strict, but he didn't tolerate disrespect. The boy shrank back. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Rubbing his face wearily, Cloud sighed. "It's ok. And for the record, I did knock. You probably just couldn't hear it over…that." He nodded in the direction of the headphones with a scowl. He didn't like it when Denzel listened to that kind of garbage, but he knew he had to choose his battles, so he decided to pretend that his enhanced hearing wasn't picking up every poisonous lyric.

But the music was still blaring through the discarded headphones and Cloud didn't want it as the backdrop for their conversation, so he reached over and flipped it off. Denzel smothered the new tendril of irritation. Why did he have to barge in here and touch all his stuff?

"So…do you want to talk about this?" Cloud asked tentatively, settling on the foot of the bed.

Denzel scoffed. "What's there to talk about? It's not like we can change anything. Even if I train every day, I'm never gonna be strong like you." His stomach burned as he glared up at Cloud. "You have no idea what it feels like to try so hard and always fail."

Cloud looked surprised. "You're not failing at anything, Denz. You're learning fast. But it takes time and practice to get really good at something."

The boy scowled. "Not for you. I bet everything was always easy for you."

The corners of Cloud's mouth twitched. That was a new one. He scratched his head and looked down at Denzel's dark blue quilt. Tifa had spent months making it for his last birthday, and he'd been thrilled to finally get rid of the childish bedspread that matched Marlene's. Tifa showed her love to the kids in a million little ways, but Cloud always struggled to express himself. Did they even know how much they meant to him? He ran his hands over the soft quilt now as he searched for the right words.

Cloud never talked about his childhood. It was painful for him. He couldn't think of his mother without remembering how she had looked when he couldn't save her from the fire. He couldn't think of the kids with whom he'd grown up (excluding Tifa, of course) without feeling the shame and anger he always battled with back then. He had never really come to acceptance with his past, but he had learned how to keep it shoved into a dark corner of his mind. Staying out of the past and living in the present kept him sane.

But now Denzel needed to hear it, so he dredged it out into the light. He started hesitantly. "Did I ever tell you that I used to get picked on all the time when I was a kid?"

Denzel's eyes grew wide. Who would be stupid enough to pick on Cloud Strife? "Did they have a death wish?"

Cloud chuckled lowly. "Nah. I wasn't much of a threat back then. I was a lot smaller than the other kids. I didn't have many friends either. They all…thought I was weird." The look in his eyes was distant as he traveled into Nibelheim of the past. "I was miserable. By the time I was your age, I couldn't wait to get out of town. I wanted to prove I wasn't the weakling they thought I was."

Denzel was still skeptical. "But you made it into SOLDIER! Didn't you have to be like… the best of the best to get in?"

Cloud smiled sadly as he rubbed his neck self-consciously. "Yes, you did have to be the best of the best. That's why…" he took a deep breath and caught Denzel's eye, "I never made it."

Denzel's mouth dropped open. He had always believed Cloud had been a SOLDIER. His and Tifa's friends made references to it all the time. In retrospect, he supposed that Cloud himself had never actually said it, but he'd never made a point to set the record straight, either.

Cloud looked wistful as he traced his fingers restlessly over the quilt. "I worked so hard. I think I wanted it more than anyone else there. I spent so much extra time training while the others were goofing off. I was pretty good with my sword, but I didn't have the strength or size to join SOLDIER." He shrugged. "Maybe if I'd have a few more years, but…"

His eyes darkened for a moment and he shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. "Anyway, the point is, it took me a lot of work and a lot of years to get to where I am. And if you want to get here, it will for you too. I'm not going to go easy on you, because I can see you have potential, but you'll never reach it if you don't push yourself. So…just hang in there, ok?"

Grudgingly, Denzel allowed a small smile. "Ok. I guess so."

After Cloud let himself out of the room, Denzel put his hands behind his head and leaned back on the bed. He tried to imagine Cloud being small and weak, or anyone daring to pick on him, but he just couldn't see it. Was he really telling the truth, or just trying to make Denzel feel better? And if he didn't get into SOLDIER, why did his eyes have that mako glow?

He was starting to feel that itch in his head, so Denzel pulled out his sketchpad. He flipped to a clean page and started a new drawing. It was Cloud, looking as vibrant and powerful as ever, but with a red tinge to his normally bright blue irises. His hands were held out, palms up, with a tongue of flame resting on each one. Denzel smiled, thinking this one was easy enough to interpret. Cloud must be getting ready to teach him to use magic.

* * *

After their talk, Denzel felt much better about his training. He didn't mind as much when Cloud corrected him, and he found that it was easier to remember all the details when he let go of his anger.

He was getting much stronger, too, his body developing muscle tone, no longer resembling that of a child. He was 13 and tall for his age, nearly as tall as Cloud. The man who had taken him in had always seemed larger than life to Denzel, but he realized now that he wasn't very big at all. It was just his presence that made it seem so to the small boy.

He could now parry most of his mentor's attacks and he felt good about it. Even better was the day when they sat in the equipment room, cleaning up their swords together.

"You know," Cloud said, considering the boy solemnly, "I think you're ready to move on to some more advanced topics. What do you think?"

Denzel's eyes lit up. "Yes!" he cried emphatically. "Can we…uh, maybe start with materia?"

Cloud looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I think you're ready for it. Tifa should teach you though. She's a natural with materia. Learn how to use it from your bracer, and when you're ready, we can practice with it in our weapons."

"Yes!" He dropped his sword and clobbered Cloud with a hug, the first he'd given freely in a very long time. "Can I go ask her now?"

Cloud smiled into the boy's shirt. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll finish cleaning these up."

With a huge grin on his face, Denzel galloped out of the room to go find Tifa.

* * *

Tifa was a good teacher. She was also very patient, which was a good thing, because Denzel was trying her patience already. He was squirmy and unfocused. If he'd been working with Cloud, the session would have ended in frustration much earlier.

To Denzel's annoyance, Marlene had begged to be allowed in on the lessons too. Even though she was two years younger than him, even though he had spent over a year training before they would even consider letting him use it, the adults had decided she was ready to learn. She had accidentally used materia once, healing a cut on her hand when she'd been putting away some of Tifa's Cure materia. Cloud said she obviously had an affinity for healing magic, and since she was so mature for her age, they should start teaching her right away.

"Try again, Denzel." Tifa's voice dragged his thoughts back to the present. They were both sitting cross-legged on the floor of the training room, facing each other, but Denzel had far too much energy to sit still.

"I can't," Denzel groaned. It was a hot day, and the windows of the training room were open, letting in a slight breeze to cool the stifling heat. He could smell food being cooked somewhere and his stomach growled loudly. He heard Cloud working on Fenrir out back and kids arguing loudly nearby. "There are too many distractions to do this right now."

Tifa considered him thoughtfully. "Denzel, you wanted to learn how to use materia in battle. Do you really think your enemy will sit quietly and wait for you to calm your mind? You need to learn to control yourself, _especially_ when you're distracted. In a fight, you may have only seconds between attacks. You may need to cure yourself when you're in a lot of pain. You may need to keep fighting even when it looks like your friends have been mortally wounded. Learn to quiet the noise in your head and listen."

Denzel sighed and closed his eyes, taking up the position she had taught him.

"Your mind should be completely blank, so you almost forget about the materia completely," Tifa said. "When it's that clear, you should be able to hear the voices from the Lifestream."

One of Denzel's eyes popped open. "How do you know when you're hearing them?"

Tifa looked thoughtful as she decided how best to describe it. "To me, it sounds more like a crackle. I don't understand the words, but I know it's them."

So far, Denzel hadn't heard a peep from the Lifestream. He thought he had heard a low murmur once, only to realize that it actually was a low murmur – coming from the bar.

Marlene sat there quietly, presumably listening intently to the voices speaking to her. She opened her eyes and looked at Denzel. "I can practically feel the frustration coming off of you in waves."

He gave her an evil glare, but she was undeterred.

"You know what I do when I need to calm down?" she asked cheerfully. "I think about that day in Costa Del Sol with Cloud and Tifa and Daddy and all of their friends. You remember that day?"

The memory made Denzel smile. "Yeah. We played volleyball on the beach. Yuffie tried to cheat and use magic to coat the ball in ice, and then when she tried to spike it, the whole thing just shattered."

"Yep," Marlene giggled. "Then we buried Daddy in the sand and made a huge castle on top of him and told him he couldn't move because he would break it."

"And Cloud taught us how to swim!" Denzel added. "Or at least he tried to, but he didn't really know how to do anything but doggy paddle."

"And then you and I got on Cloud and Daddy's shoulders and played chicken!" Marlene said.

Tifa joined in, laughing. "Those two were so competitive that they kept demanding rematches, until the two of you got bored and left, and then they kept going by themselves."

By the time Tifa and the kids finally stopped laughing, Denzel had totally forgotten his frustration with meditation. Marlene brought his attention back to it. "Ok, now the important part. I think about that night, when we all sat on the beach under the stars and watched the waves rolling in. The adults were drinking beer and talking, and they let us stay up late with them."

Denzel closed his eyes and remembered. The air was finally beginning to cool after the long, hot day. Cloud had been sitting on the sand with his arms resting on his bent knees, and Denzel sat in front of him, between his legs. The adults' conversation was boring him and the lull of the waves were making him sleepy, and he had started leaning against one of the legs bracketing him. Cloud had leaned forward and spoken softly in his ear. "Getting tired, buddy?" Denzel shook his head and sat up straight, afraid they would make him go inside and go to bed, but after a few minutes, he was slouching against his leg again. Cloud had put that leg down so Denzel could use it as a pillow, and had rested his hand on Denzel's head. The sand under his body had cooled with the air, but Cloud's hand was warm and heavy. It covered his ear and muffled the sound of the adults' voices into a comforting murmur. The last thing he remembered from that night was thinking that there was nowhere in the world safer than he was at that moment.

He smiled gently at the memory. That's when he heard the scratching sound – the voices of the Lifestream.

From that point on, Denzel was able to progress quickly. He had been relieved to learn that Marlene's affinity was really only for curing and support materia. Although she wasn't as competitive as her brother and not particularly bothered that her attack magic was weak – she claimed that she didn't actually want to fight anyway – his confidence was boosted by the fact that he was better than her at something.

On the first day, Tifa had met him in the training room, carrying a yellow stone that was about the size of a golf ball.

"What's that?" Denzel questioned. It looked like materia, but he had never seen one that color before.

Tifa held it up for his inspection. "It's command materia. See, you can tell what type it is because of its color."

Denzel frowned. "Ok, but how do you know what kind of command materia?"

"For that," Tifa explained, "you need to learn to hear the voices in the Lifestream. You can only tell the type by looking at it. That's why you should always stop and listen when you buy new materia. Especially if the store sells a wide variety of products, the shopkeepers don't always know how to listen to it, so they just have to take the word of their supplier. I learned that the hard way once." Tifa grimaced.

Her expression made Denzel curious. "Really? What happened?"

"I bought a Flare materia once," Tifa explained. "It was really expensive, but they're so hard to find that I _had_ to get it. The others were leaving, so I bought it and ran to catch up with them. When we got to the campsite I was so excited to try it out, and that's when I realized it was just Fire. But by then, the marketplace had already closed. I wanted to return it the next day, but we needed to leave early in the morning. The others convinced me that the shopkeeper probably wouldn't have believed me or taken it back anyway." She shrugged. "Lesson learned."

A new thought struck Denzel. "But if you can't understand the voices, how do you know what kind of materia it is?"

Tifa put her finger to her lower lip and tapped it thoughtfully. "It's hard to explain. It's more of a feeling. You just know how to use it, and each element has a different feel to your body. Once you get used to some different kinds, you'll start to recognize them."

Now that Denzel had tried so many different kinds of materia, he knew exactly what Tifa meant. He just knew.

Cloud was also pleased that the boy was making so much progress. He seemed much more focused and committed now, and not so frustrated all the time. Their relationship was much less strained and they both enjoyed the training sessions.

By the time his 13th year was coming to a close, Denzel had become pretty skilled with both the sword and the materia in his bracer. Cloud had drilled the basics into him until they were automatic, and Denzel grudgingly acknowledged that it was easier to focus on sword technique when his muscle memory handled those other details.

Finally, Cloud judged him ready to use materia in his weapon. He came to the equipment room with several of the small stones in his pockets. He tossed a green one to Denzel, along with a practice sword with a couple of slots. Denzel's eyes lit up. "We're going to use materia today?"

"If you want," Cloud said.

"Of course I want! I've been waiting for ages!"

"Good. The first thing you need to learn is Barrier." He showed Denzel how to slot it in his sword. "I want you to put up a magic barrier and I'll shoot some ice at you. It will still hurt a little if it hits you, but not bad. Ok?"

Denzel slumped his shoulders. "I thought I was actually going to do something with magic."

Cloud talked over his shoulder as he walked into the training area. "You are doing something with magic. Just not attacking with it. Even an unstoppable offense is worthless if you never get a chance to use it."

Denzel dragged his feet all the way out to the practice room. It was another one of Cloud's meaningless platitudes of which he seemed to have an endless supply, but didn't seem to actually follow himself. He scowled but said nothing. Once they reached the center, he focused his mind and cast his shell. It took several seconds, longer than he would like, but at least it was up. "Ready."

Lifting the sword behind his head, Cloud's face became a mask of concentration as the metal of the blade glowed blue. He swung the sword down lightly in Denzel's direction, sending a wave of blue along the ground. The ice spell was slow and low-powered, and Denzel was prepared for it, but the amount of the spell that made it past his barrier still stung more than he expected.

"Agh!" Denzel took a step back voluntarily, cringing as it hit him.

"You ok?" Cloud called.

"Yeah, just…that cold really stings." He shook his hands, trying to get feeling back into his fingertips.

His eyes hiding a smirk, Cloud asked, "Well why did you just stand there and let it hit you?"

Denzel blinked at him. "Wasn't I supposed to?"

"Of course not. If you can dodge out of the way in time you won't have to feel it at all."

The boy scowled at him. "That would have been nice to know 5 minutes ago."

"I guess I figured common sense would kick in," Cloud laughed. He quieted when he saw the look on Denzel's face. "No, really, most people instinctively avoid pain." He shrugged and gave him a small smile. "Maybe you're braver than most."

After some consideration, Denzel decided to take that as a compliment.

"Now I'm going to launch several of them at you. Keep your shell up, but try to dodge out of the way if you can." Cloud raised the sword over his head again. Denzel bent his knees into the fighting stance that had been drilled into him.

Cloud's sword came down slightly faster this time, casting three ice spells in a row, a second apart in a wide arc. Denzel easily dodged those, so then he sent out 5 spells, a little closer together. The boy really was pretty quick, and Cloud started to vary the speed and distance as he continued lofting the light spells his way.

Denzel was ducking and rolling, avoiding the worst of the ice, but a few got past his barrier. He was starting to get worn out and losing the feeling in his fingers, so he called "Stop!" and dropped his barrier.

Cloud lowered his sword. "What's wrong?"

The boy's shoulders drooped. "My magic barrier must not be very good. I need to go thaw out."

His teacher shrugged. "Your barrier looks fine, but it's not meant to stop spells completely, only to dampen the effect. The good news is that you don't usually have to depend on shell alone, but it's good to have it up in case you can't dodge or block it."

"Block?" Denzel asked, perking back up. "How do you block magic?"

Cloud smiled at the boy's renewed interest. "Let's take a break so you can thaw your fingers. Then I'll show you."

Denzel bounced around and wiggled his body to get the blood flowing back into the parts suffering from the worst of the ice. By the time Cloud came back and tossed him a bottle of water from the kitchen, Denzel was ready to go again.

"Feeling better?" Cloud asked as the boy tipped back the water.

Denzel took several more swallows before lowering the bottle and wiping his face with the back of his wrist. "I guess so. The thing is, I was excited to be casting magic, not to have it cast at me."

"Hm," Cloud intoned. "So you're planning to do battle with a lot of trees, then?"

Denzel shot him a withering look. "Of course not. I mean, I knew it would hurt, but…"

"But now you're willing to go to a lot more effort to avoid getting hit at all?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Good," Cloud said approvingly. "Then you're ready to learn about blocking." He pulled a piece of materia out of his pocket and tossed it to Denzel. "Here. Put this in your other weapon slot."

Denzel caught the stone and listened as Tifa had taught him. "Fire!" Denzel exclaimed, perking up. "This is what I've been waiting for."

"You block by attacking with the opposite element," Cloud explained. "If the spells hit, they will cancel each other out instead of hitting you."

While the teen pressed the stone into the other slot in his sword, Cloud continued. "Now you launch some fire at me, and I'm going to block it with ice. Ready?"

Denzel lifted his sword above his head the way Cloud had shown him. The metal glowed red and he swung it at the ground in Cloud's direction. The red wave moved slowly and the man barely had to flick his wrist to send out the small ice wave. The red and blue waves crashed into each other, sending a small plume of magenta into the air before fizzling out. It was not exactly awe-inspiring.

Scowling, Denzel repositioned himself and launched another red wave, swinging his arm down hard. It was larger this time, but it fizzled out before it even reached his opponent.

"Swinging harder won't make the spell travel any faster," Cloud coached him. "That has to be done with your mind. Hold it a bit longer so it builds up in strength before you bring the sword down. Move your body forward as you release it, not just your arm, and it will move faster."

Denzel nodded and focused on everything his teacher was telling him. He counted to three as he held it above his head, and then lunged forward as he released it.

His eyes widened as he watched the exponentially larger red wave shooting toward the blond man. Cloud flicked his wrist harder, matching the size of the fire spell with his ice. The magenta plume was spectacular that time, shooting high into the air.

Denzel whooped loudly at the brilliant display. When the light had died down and there was only a thin veil of smoke in the air, he looked over at his mentor. Cloud was just watching him with a slight curve of his lips, the tiny unguarded smile that Denzel had learned meant contentment.

The smile was gone too soon, though. Cloud went back into business mode. They continued to practice casting and blocking, with some dodging thrown in when it was possible. He had told Denzel to dodge whenever he could, especially when the spell covered a smaller area, because he had a limited amount of energy to spend on casting spells.

Back in the equipment room at the end of their session, Cloud was explaining how they were able to keep track of how much energy they had left.

"When we were out on missions and fighting all the time, we came up with a number system to keep track of how much capacity we had each day. We called them magic points, and assigned point values to each spell, depending on how much it taxed your system, so that we could pace ourselves and make sure we didn't get too weak to cast when we were only halfway through the day."

Denzel looked at him like he was being deliberately dense. "Why wouldn't you just use ether?"

Cloud shrugged. "We did, but it was expensive and we didn't always have it. Even if we did, it was important to know how much capacity we'd used up and how much more we planned to use so we didn't waste it."

Denzel furrowed his brow. "Does everyone have the same…umm…capacity?"

Cloud kept his eyes on the blade he was currently oiling. "No, but we did it so often that we were able to figure out our own capacities. And of course we all got stronger over time, so we were always adjusting the number."

"Sounds too much like math homework," Denzel complained.

He earned a quiet laugh from Cloud. "Believe it or not, Denz, you do actually learn some useful things in school."

Later that night, the kids sat at the table finishing their homework. Cloud and Tifa were in the kitchen together, getting dinner ready. Their conversation was a quiet murmur drifting under the swinging door. Marlene had set down her pencil and was staring dreamily into space.

"Uh, Marlene?" Denzel poked her arm. "What are you doing?"

"Shh! Just listen!"

Denzel sat quietly and listened for a few seconds before getting impatient. "I can't understand a word they're saying."

Marlene looked at him like he was being ridiculous. "The words don't matter, Denz, just listen to the tone!"

He closed his mouth and listened again. Their voices sounded happy, and their conversation was interspersed with laughter. It was a bit unusual. Cloud so rarely laughed, and he had never been the type to speak just to hear his own voice. Denzel shrugged and went back to his homework. "I guess they're in a good mood today."

Marlene continued listening, enjoying the warm feeling she was getting. She wondered if her parents had ever sounded like that. She had been too young to even remember them at the time they died, but she liked to imagine that they were happy and in love. Then it got completely quiet. It stretched into minutes, and she decided Cloud must have gone out the back door and left Tifa to cook by herself. Since she would no longer be interrupting their happy conversation, it seemed like a good time to see if one of them could help her with the math problem she'd been stuck on before she started daydreaming.

She pushed open the swinging door and poked in her head. The words caught in her throat before she could make a sound. She was interrupting, but they weren't talking anymore. Tifa sat on the counter with the back of her head against the cupboard. Cloud stood in front of her, between her knees, with his arms wrapped around her. Tifa had one hand on his face and the other in his hair, and they were kissing. Not like a "have a nice day honey" peck, but a real smooch. A pan simmered on the stove, forgotten.

Marlene backed out quietly and returned to the table, smiling. Denzel looked up when she sat down. "How long until we eat? I'm starving."

"I don't know. I didn't ask," Marlene said casually.

Denzel sighed and got up, heading toward the kitchen himself.

"No, wait! Denzel, don't!" Marlene hissed as she chased after him.

She was too late. He smacked opened the swinging door with his shoulder and strolled right in. Tifa banged her head on the cupboard, hard, and Cloud backed up so fast that he was halfway across the kitchen before Marlene even saw him.

Denzel stood there and blinked foolishly at them. "Uh…I was just um…are we going to eat soon?"

Cloud was leaning against the counter on the far side of the kitchen, trying to look casual, and Tifa's face was bright red as she cleared her throat and blinked rapidly. "Yes. Five minutes. Can you guys clear off the table please?"

"Sure…" Denzel said, turning around slowly. Marlene waited until the door had swung shut behind them before smacking him in the head.

* * *

Cloud slotted his materia in his sword and tossed one to Denzel. He listened to the stone for a moment. "You're giving me ice today?"

"Yeah," Cloud said. "They all feel a little different, so you should get used to them all."

Denzel shrugged and pressed the ice materia into his weapon.

"Show me how fast you can cast ice, Denz. The fire will hurt a lot more if you can't block it, so…"

Denzel nodded and sent several blasts of ice in Cloud's direction. Ice must be the kid's natural element – it seemed to come easier to him.

Cloud sent a few lazy blasts of fire off and Denzel blocked them easily, his blue waves making it more than halfway between them before smashing into the red. "Good!" Cloud said proudly. "Your casting time is getting better, and that's important because your enemy won't always be so far away. Now take 3 steps toward me."

Gradually, they moved closer together, allowing less time to react with each step forward. Finally they were at striking distance again. Cloud put his sword up in an attack stance toward Denzel and motioned for the boy to do the same. "You can hit and cast at the same time. It's a devastating combination, very hard to block, but you have to be careful not to let the spell be misdirected when your sword strikes. Put up a magic barrier, just in case, and try it on me."

Denzel took a deep breath to steady himself, suddenly feeling nervous. "Are you going to try to block it?"

"No, not when we're this close." Cloud smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about me."

Denzel held the sword over his head and listened for the scratching noises. He held it for a few seconds longer, letting it build, and then swung it down.

Cloud parried the strike, and Denzel had the satisfaction of realizing that for once he was on the giving side of that vibrating clang. He had also felt the ice leave his sword, and he was pretty certain it went the right direction. He looked up to see his trainer's reaction, but the look on his face was unexpected. It was startled, almost scared – an expression he had never seen on the warrior. Cloud's face was turning red and he dropped his sword, clutching a hand at his throat.

"Hey! Are you ok?" Denzel tried to grab his arm to get his attention, but Cloud didn't even look at him. Instead, he dropped to the ground on his hands and knees.

Denzel dropped down next to him. "Cloud? What's wrong? Cloud!" His eyes were bulging, unfocused. His face was getting alarmingly close to purple now and Denzel suddenly understood. _He can't breathe!_ He tried not to panic. How was he supposed to help him? What could have caused it? Surely not his ice spell. _Tifa. I have to get Tifa!_

Denzel raced out into the bar area where Tifa was rewashing glasses that Yuffie had carelessly swiped at from the night before. "Tifa! Something's wrong with Cloud!"

Tifa didn't ask any questions. She dropped the glass she had been holding, ignoring the shattering crystal on the floor behind her, and sprinted in the direction from which Denzel had come.

He ran behind her, losing ground to her astonishingly fast pace, but it didn't matter. She knew where to find Cloud. As Denzel burst through the training room a few seconds behind her, he heard the sound of Cloud's jagged coughing. Tifa slid to her knees next to him and supported his upper body with her shoulder while he tried to cough up a lung.

Denzel's eyes were huge and his voice shook as he ran up next to them. "I don't know what happened! I think I hit him with some ice, but he said it would be ok…"

Tifa shook her head grimly. "This isn't from an ice spell."

His coughing finally subsiding, Cloud drew in ragged breaths while Denzel watched anxiously. "Denzel, go get him some water," Tifa said.

Denzel nodded and ran off to get the water. When he returned, Cloud was breathing a little easier and his face was almost back to his usual pale color. He gratefully took the water from Denzel and drank it all while the other two watched him.

Tifa was rubbing his back now. "Cloud, what happened? Are you going to be ok?"

"I'm ok," Cloud said hoarsely. "I choked on…" He shook his head. "..something. I finally swallowed it, but it really burned on the way down."

Burning with anxious energy and needing to do something useful, Denzel picked up their practice swords. He popped the ice and barrier materia out of his and then turned his attention to Cloud's. All of the slots were already empty. "Um, did you take out that fire materia? I can put it away. I—I'll clean up in here."

Cloud looked up at him. His eyes were still watering, and the tears magnified the bright blue irises. "I don't have it," he rasped.

Denzel looked back at the empty materia slot. He scanned the ground, looking for the telltale flash of green. It finally caught his eye, and he felt a rock drop into the pit of his stomach as he picked it up. It had split into several pieces, and as he gathered together all he could find, it quickly became obvious that not all the pieces were there.

All three of them seemed to come to a realization at the same time, but at first they could only stare at the fragmented stone in his hand.

Tifa was the one to finally voice it. "Cloud…I think you swallowed materia."


	2. The Fighter

The silence following Tifa's pronouncement echoed through all of them. She was the first to snap out of it and take charge.

"It'll be ok," she said, her voice betraying only a hint of uncertainly. "We just need to get it out. Just…wait here," she ordered as she ran out of the room.

Denzel was shaky on his feet, almost paralyzed with worry. "Cloud…I'm so sorry. I don't know what…I didn't mean to…"

Cloud shook his head and pulled Denzel closer by his wrist. "Not your fault," he said hoarsely. The effort of speaking so forcefully must have irritated his throat, because he began coughing again.

Denzel shifted uneasily on his feet, wishing he could do something to help. The acrid odor of smoke filled his nostrils and his eyes widened. "Cloud? Is that smell coming from you?"

Eyes watering as he got the coughing fit under control, Cloud nodded. Seeing the terrified look on the boy's face, he waved dismissively as if to say "It's fine," although he didn't dare to try to speak again.

Tifa rushed back into the room with some thick, horrid looking concoction in a glass. Cloud reached his hand out to take it, but she pulled the glass back. "You…probably want to be close to a bathroom." She smiled apologetically at the look on his face. "Sorry. It won't be pleasant, but hopefully you can vomit it back up. I don't know how else to get it out."

Looking resigned, Cloud nodded. He accepted a hand from Tifa to get to his feet and then the two of them left the training room. Feeling frustrated and helpless, Denzel picked up the swords and brought them to the back room. It wasn't much, but at least this was _something_ he could do. He grabbed the cloths and cleaning solutions and scrubbed and polished the first sword until it shone. When he was satisfied that he couldn't make it any better, he put it gently into its place on the wall and picked up the second sword. He gave this one the same treatment, moving up to the hilt only when he could see his reflection in the blade. He used a leather treatment to restore the grip and cleaned out the materia slots. Finally, he replaced the sword carefully back on the wall.

He didn't feel any better. No amount of polishing could ease the weight in the pit of his stomach. In his mind, all he could see was the materia slot that had held the fire materia. All he could think of was the chip in that slot.

The chip that he had put there.

* * *

Denzel desperately wanted to take refuge in his room, but it was too close to the bathroom from which the horrible retching sounds issued. He put on his headphones and tried to block out the guilt-inducing noises, but he could hear them over every lull and ebb in the music. Finally he tore off the headphones and threw them angrily at the headboard. He would probably regret that later, but at the moment he was too overwhelmed with guilt and angst to feel it.

He went downstairs and into the bar area, hoping to restore some karma – or at least feel better about himself – by doing homework before being forced. He sat down at their regular table and spread out his books and papers. He opened "The History and People of Gaia" and tried to read the assigned chapter, but the words blurred in front of his eyes. He kept seeing that look on Cloud's face, and hearing his hoarse reassurance: _Not your fault._

He sat there for a long time, trying to refocus his eyes and his mind, reading the same sentence over and over without comprehending. Wasn't this what he'd been practicing with Tifa? He had to clear his turbulent mind if he wanted to use materia. But as soon as the words crossed his mind, the thought of materia alone made him feel sick to his stomach again. He slammed the book shut and dropped his head onto his arms.

He wasn't even aware of her presence until Marlene plopped down in the chair next to him.

"What's wrong with Cloud?" she worried aloud. "He never gets sick! It sounds like he's been throwing up for _hours_ in there."

Denzel was annoyed by her presence as much as her observations. He didn't even lift his head from the table. "Tifa gave him something to make him sick."

Marlene made a face at him. Lately, Denzel had gotten into the habit of peppering every response with sarcasm and then laughing at her for thinking he was serious. It was a mean streak he seemed to have developed since the school year started, since he'd been hanging out with those twins, Jesse and Jason. "Whatever you say," she muttered with a sigh. She pulled out her math book and paper and got to work, answering equations in her perfect writing.

* * *

They ate without Cloud that evening. He was still holed up in the upstairs bathroom. Denzel stabbed at his meatloaf moodily while Tifa came up with evasive answers to all of Marlene's questions.

"I didn't even know he could get sick," she said with wide eyes.

It was true. When the three of them had been dragging themselves around the house, moaning about a summer flu, Cloud had tried to keep all of them comfortable and fed. While they struggled with colds all winter long, Cloud never had so much as a sniffle, but he kept enough tissue around the house for an army. In fact, she couldn't remember a single time he'd shown any sign of illness, except for the Geostigma.

With that thought, she shot to her feet, upsetting her glass of milk. She ignored the white liquid racing to the edge of the table. "Tifa! Do you think he has some kind of disease, like when he got Geostigma?"

Tifa didn't even seem to notice the spilled milk. Denzel righted the glass, but most of it had already spilled and was dribbling in loud splats on the floor. He shot an annoyed look at Marlene as Tifa rushed to reassure her.

"No, no, of course not, Sweetie! He's just…it was something he ate earlier today. He'll be fine once he gets it out of his system."

Denzel didn't want to be any part of the conversation, afraid they would read the guilt on his face, so he kept his eyes downcast and tried to clean up the soggy mess with napkins. Neither of the girls even noticed, and no one said a word when he brought his still-full plate into the kitchen.

Later that evening, Denzel was stretched out on his bed, sketching, when the bathroom door finally opened. His pencil stilled as he listened to Cloud's footsteps padding down the hall. He waited until he heard Tifa's door close before daring a peek out of his room. Seeing that the coast was clear, he tiptoed to their bedroom door and held his breath.

"…no, but don't worry. I feel ok now. Maybe nothing will happen." Cloud's voice sounded rough, but Denzel felt himself relax incrementally at the lack of concern in his tone.

The bed springs creaked and linen rustled as one or both of them got comfortable in bed. "I called around a little bit to see if anyone had seen anything like this before –"

"Tifa, you shouldn't have done that. I don't want anyone –"

"Well I thought someone might be able to help! I don't know what else to do."

There was silence for a moment before Cloud prodded her further. "So? Did anyone know what would happen?"

Tifa sounded defeated. "No. Even Doc Marten said he'd never heard of it happening to anyone in all his years."

"Hmm. You know what? I'm not that worried. It can't be any worse than all the poisons my body has been subjected to. Maybe it can handle it."

There was a long pause, and the sound of shifting linen and kissing. Tifa's voice changed. "Your body _is_ capable of some pretty amazing things." Cloud's laugh was low and rumbling.

Denzel felt a pinch on his arm and slapped instinctively at the bug, squashing it against his skin. He winced at the noise. The sound was soft, but still…

"Go to bed, Denz." Cloud's voice floated through the wooden door.

Denzel let out his breath in a huff. "I was just getting some water," he grumbled. To make it believable, he headed down to the kitchen and filled a small cup with water from the tap. He took a sip and then dumped the rest. He left the glass in the sink and made his way softly back up the stairs to listen at the door, but all was quiet in Tifa's room. He hadn't really expected anything. In fact, it was a miracle that he had managed to overhear anything in the first place without Cloud knowing he was there.

He returned to his room and shut the door softly behind him. As he got into bed, his eyes fell on the still-open sketchbook. He had drawn a burly-looking man with ruddy skin and a neglected beard. The man had a scowl on his face and his crossed arms rested on top of his protruding belly. The look in his eyes gave Denzel the chills. He closed the book and tucked it inside a nightstand drawer. He had no idea who the man was, but he supposed he'd find out eventually. He always did.

* * *

Denzel didn't sleep well that night. He woke up in the morning with a vague feeling of apprehension and memories of swirling colors, but couldn't piece together any of his dreams. He rolled out of bed and slogged down the stairs. Tifa greeted him cheerfully as he sat down at the table for breakfast, but the shadows under her eyes told him that she'd slept as poorly as he had.

Cloud came down the stairs as Denzel helped himself to eggs and toast. Denzel studied him discreetly as he dished up his plate. Cloud looked the same as he always did. His blond spikes stuck up in the air and his blue eyes glowed in the early morning sunshine of the kitchen. He snatched a piece of bacon from Tifa's plate as he walked by and she slapped playfully at his hand.

All four members of their unorthodox little family were at the table, acting like nothing had happened. Marlene was the only one who was truly oblivious to the events of the previous day, and she chattered about her upcoming school field trip and some new girl in her class. Denzel decided to follow the adults' lead and not talk about the incident in front of her.

The rest of the day passed much the same, as did the rest of the week, and Denzel came to realize that they weren't just trying to hide it from Marlene – no one was talking about it _at all_. He had tried to bring it up once when he was alone with Tifa, but she just brushed him off, assuring him that Cloud was too tough to be really hurt by something so small. The longer everyone acted like nothing was wrong, the more Denzel started to believe maybe there really _wasn't_ anything wrong. Maybe it would turn out to be harmless in his stomach, or maybe – Denzel's butt burned in sympathy at the thought – it just came out the other end. In any case, he couldn't see any ill effects from it. Cloud looked the same as always, so maybe the boy was making too big of a deal out of it.

If he hadn't wanted to believe it so badly, perhaps he would have thought it strange that Cloud ended up canceling so many of their training sessions in the following weeks. He would have had more than a passing curiosity about the times he'd found Cloud in that room alone, or the increasing smell of burnt food permeating the air.

As it was, life just went back to normal at Seventh Heaven. Denzel did homework and chores; he ate and slept and trained. Although his sword training sessions were fewer, he spent more time with Tifa working on his materia. Marlene and Cloud seemed to be spending more time together than usual, but he supposed it was only natural since he was hogging Tifa so often for his materia lessons.

* * *

A month later, the four sat together at the breakfast table as usual, enjoying the relaxed and playful atmosphere before they would have to get ready for their various responsibilities. Marlene was animatedly telling a story while the others ate and listened politely.

As Denzel took a bite of his toast, Cloud shot to his feet, muscles tensed. Tifa paused with the fork halfway to her mouth. "What's wrong?"

Cloud stared in the direction of the bar. "Stay here," he barked, taking off at a run through the kitchen door. They heard the front door slam behind him.

The remaining three looked at each other, at a loss. Finally, Denzel spoke. "Tifa, shouldn't we—"

"Shh!" She shushed him with a wave of her hand. "Listen."

Denzel strained his ears, but it wasn't necessary for long. A horrifying melee of sounds was getting louder by the second. There were roars of beasts in several different pitches, the sound of wood splintering and steel bending, and the unmistakable whoosh of a sword whipping through air, terminated abruptly as each swing met its target.

Adrenaline pumping through him, Denzel charged through the door. "No, wait!" Tifa called, but he was already gone, too driven to reach Cloud to heed her warning. He burst out into the blinding morning sunshine, squinting as he spotted the horde of assorted monsters at the end of the block.

At some point on his flight out the door, Cloud had retrieved First Tsurugi, and was dual wielding two of the pieces as he battled against the dozens of beasts. Denzel steeled himself. This was his chance. This was what he'd been training for!

He ran to help his hero, realizing only as he broke into the fray that he hadn't grabbed a weapon. Fear quickly overrode his earlier bravado. A cripshay eyed him hungrily and he began to back away slowly, hoping that he wouldn't startle the monster into attacking. It didn't work. The cripshay skittered toward him. Before Denzel could retreat more than a few steps, it had pinned him to the ground on his back. He pushed up against its stomach with all his strength, keeping its clashing teeth at bay, but his arms were starting to tire and the teeth moved closer. He closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, earning himself a few extra inches of space. A whiff of air cooled his face, and the cripshay was suddenly dead weight against his arms. He opened his eyes and shoved it off. The hollow blade of the fusion sword protruded from the middle of the beast's head.

Denzel looked over to where Cloud was smoothly fighting off more monsters than he could count, almost a block away. He had flung the hollow blade as a projectile to impale the cripshay. Without taking his eyes off the myriad of beasts, he shouted, "Denzel, get inside!"

Denzel growled and got to his feet, grasping the hilt of the hollow blade and pulling it free from the cripshay's head with a wet squelch. He was not a child anymore. He didn't need to be protected like one. "No," he said quietly.

He raised the sword and positioned his feet in the stance that was now automatic. He swung with all his might at a chuse tank that had been racing by. He felt a rush of elation as the sword sliced through the green neck and decapitated the beast.

The teen gripped the sword harder as he continued swinging at the charging swarm. The hot blood from assorted species was running down the blade and making the hilt slippery. _Now there's something you don't encounter in practice._ He was starting to understand why Cloud always wore gloves when he fought.

Denzel was desperately wishing he had some materia, but of course Cloud hadn't had time to equip anything in his sword, or even put on any armor. Denzel's arms were starting to get tired with the non-stop onslaught, but he felt more alive than he ever had before. _This is why he does it,_ he thought. _This is why Cloud keeps going out and killing monsters in the surrounding forests and the edges of town. Even though the people in town don't know, even though no one ever thanks him for protecting them, he does it for this rush. I get it now. Someday, that will be me._

He pulled the sword free from the midsection of the vice in which he'd buried it, every sense heightened with the thrill of battle. He could hear the overwhelming roar of the mob lowering in volume as more and more were defeated. He could smell the mingled odors of the beasts and the coppery tang of blood in the air. He could keep track of the dozens of monsters in his field of vision, could move with precision as his blade sliced through one beast after the next. And he felt, with terrifying clarity, the slippery hilt of the hollow blade slide from his grasp as a whole eater swatted it away.

Panicked, he spun around to retrieve his weapon, remembering what he had been told in training only as he felt the point of the whole eater's teeth stabbing into him, from his neck to the base of his spine: _Don't turn your back on your opponent._

" _Tifa_!" With an urgency that Denzel rarely heard in his voice, Cloud screamed her name.

"Got it!" Tifa's voice was right behind Denzel. As soon as he crashed to the ground, he braced himself for another attack, but the animal was several steps away and its attention was not on him. The monster had released him when Tifa's powerful fist had smashed into its jaw. A spinning kick sent it flying over the head of several other monsters, still alive but away from them for the moment. "Denzel! Are you ok?"

Tifa couldn't stop to look at him. With a flurry of fists and feet, she beat back the monsters trying to converge on the boy bleeding on the ground. Denzel tried to push himself up with his arms, crying out as the pain from his wounds seared through his body. It started to fade almost immediately though, replaced by a cool tingling sensation over each of the punctures. Within seconds, the pain was gone.

Marlene's voice, sounding younger and more desperate than he remembered, called out to him. "Denzel! Get up!" She was standing far away from the main action, breathing hard, even while concentrating on another spell. Denzel felt a wash of affection for her as he recognized the shimmering of the shell and protect spells encircling his body.

He snatched up the sword and jumped back into the fight next to Tifa, chopping off a tentacle reaching for her. They worked together as Denzel regained his previous momentum, the two of them slicing and striking through the mob. They were gradually moving in the opposite direction of Cloud, making the distance ever greater between them, but it didn't seem to matter. They were holding their own.

But then, a familiar shriek vibrated through him. The blood froze in Denzel's veins. Without thinking, he turned to run toward Marlene, realizing his mistake almost immediately as he was struck down from behind. _Ugh! I did it again!_ His head slammed into the ground, pain blurring his vision as he struggled to lift his head to see her. He _had_ to make sure Marlene was ok! He had thought of the girl as his sister for years, and even though she sometimes annoyed him, the thought of losing her was unbearable. He pushed himself to his knees and spotted her scrabbling backwards, trying to dodge the lunges of a giant bird that he didn't recognize.

Something pounced on his back, driving him back to the ground. The air was pushed out of his lungs with a whoosh. The sounds of the battlefield mingled into a single, ringing tone as his vision darkened. The last thing he felt as he slipped into unconsciousness was a wave of heat.

* * *

Denzel opened his eyes to the tingling that he now recognized as a cure fading from his body. He struggled to orient himself in his surroundings. His legs dangled and his head was tipped back. With an effort, he lifted his head to see glowing blue eyes that seemed to shine with an unfamiliar tint of red. The red faded as his head cleared, and he realized Cloud was holding him bridal style. Cloud's face showed as little emotion as usual, but the clench of muscles in his jaw betrayed his anxiety.

"Cloud?" Denzel said hoarsely. "Put me down." He was too shell-shocked to be embarrassed by the way he was being held like a baby, but Cloud was holding him slightly tighter than was comfortable.

Cloud set him carefully on his feet, keeping his hands on his arms long enough to make sure he was steady. For the first time, Denzel took in his surroundings. Tifa and Marlene huddled around him, the former with concern coloring her expression, the latter with eyes red from crying. Beyond them was a charred mass of bodies that he could barely recognize as the hoard of beasts they had been fighting.

"What…" Denzel trailed off as he took in the devastation. In addition to the monsters they had been fighting, some buildings looked singed, and others were still burning with small fires as the townspeople doused them with buckets of water.

Tifa rubbed his back soothingly. "Let's go home. We can talk there."

They had moved about two blocks from the bar as they fought, and nobody spoke as the quartet made their way home. The destruction lessened as they got farther from ground zero, and Seventh Heaven was completely untouched. Tifa held the door open as they all shuffled inside.

They took their places at the bar table that served as their dinner, homework, and family discussion table during the bar's off hours. The kids looked expectantly at the adults. The adults looked at each other, communicating silently with their eyes.

Exasperated with the exclusive conversation, Denzel broke the silence. "So? What happened?"

Still, neither of the adults spoke. Hoping to nudge them into speaking, Marlene slowly started with what she knew. "All three of you were busy fighting. I was trying to cast protective spells for you all, and it was hard to concentrate because I was so scared, but I think they worked…" She trailed off and Denzel reached over to squeeze her hand reassuringly.

"They worked, Mar. Then what happened?"

Marlene closed her eyes as she recalled the next few minutes. "This huge bird came out of nowhere. I've never seen anything like it! It kept swiping and trying to peck me. I was backed up to a wall and I thought I was done for, but then Tifa came and slammed it into the ground." She swallowed, opening her eyes to look at her brother and gripping his hand tighter. "When I got up I saw Denzel was bleeding and…and then there was this fire everywhere and...what _happened_?"

Tifa took a breath and decided to address the simplest of her questions first. "The giant bird – it was a zuu. It's…not native to this area."

Marlene's brow furrowed. "Then what was it doing here?"

Tifa shook her head and Cloud spoke up. "We're not sure. I've never seen them outside of Mt. Nibel."

"Oh…kay…" Marlene trailed, anxious to get to the more pressing question. "What about the fire? Where did the fire come from?"

Cloud and Tifa exchanged looks again, but before they could speak, there was a pounding at the front door. As a public door to the bar, it was unusual for anyone to knock, but Tifa rose to pull it open. A burly man, looking slightly singed but otherwise unharmed, barked out his message. "Come down to city hall. Town meeting."

Without waiting for any kind of response, he jogged to next house over and banged on the door. Tifa let the heavy door swing shut. "I guess we'll have to talk about this later." She looked at the kids at the table. "You two stay here."

Both kids protested immediately.

"We were involved! We should be allowed to come too!" Marlene pleaded.

"I want to be there," Denzel said stubbornly. "If I'm old enough to fight, I'm old enough to talk about it."

Cloud looked perturbed. "You shouldn't have been fighting either, Denz."

Denzel jumped to his feet, ignoring the protest from his unsteady legs. "I'm almost as old as you were when—"

"Enough!" Tifa cut him off. "It's not up to us. Only 18 and older are allowed to attend town meetings. So we're going and you two are staying here and that's final."

Both kids closed their mouths. When Tifa invoked that tone, they knew it would be foolish to argue with her. There was also a decent chance that she would launch into a tirade that would make their ears bleed.

Cloud grasped her hand and she calmed visibly, tipping the scales away from Ranting Tifa mode. "Let's get going, Teef," he murmured.

She nodded and let out a calming breath, but the worried lines around her mouth didn't relax. Cloud pulled her out the door and Denzel collapsed onto the couch, feeling the fatigue catching up with him. He had been through some exhausting training sessions and built up his stamina considerably, but he was woefully unprepared for the intensity of that battle.

He let his eyes close as he replayed it in his mind. It had been a long time since he'd seen Cloud in a real fight, beyond a handful of monsters easily dispatched in a few swings. But watching him this morning, he realized that the strength and speed he'd used when training Denzel was just a fraction of his capabilities. It was a depressing thought. It wasn't _normal_. How was it possible? If Cloud was never in SOLDIER, if he was never part of those mako infusions, how was it possible that he could be so strong and fast?

His brain was as exhausted as his body; there was no way he would be able to figure out the puzzle of Cloud Strife in his current state. Ignoring Marlene's questioning voice, he dragged himself up the stairs and collapsed into his bed. He was asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Tifa came up to wake him for dinner. Denzel sat up groggily, feeling disoriented by the time on his clock and the late afternoon sunshine. Apparently he'd slept right through lunch, which they usually had at about the same time as the town meeting that day. The events of the morning came rushing back to him and he threw back his covers. This was his chance to hear about the town meeting and finally figure out what the heck was going on.

By the time he had washed his hands and made it down to the table, the other three were already there. Marlene was almost bouncing in her seat. "He's awake and he's here! _Now_ will you explain what's going on?"

Tifa was trying to keep up a civilized semblance of a meal, but it seemed that no one else was interested in the food. Finally, she sighed and gave up. "Alright, fine. But really, there were more questions than answers at the meeting. People want to know where all the monsters came from, especially since some of them aren't native to this area, and no one really knows what they're doing near Midgar or how to even fight them."

Denzel snorted quietly. No one else in town really bothered to fight any of the beasts in the area. They just learned how to avoid them and used Cloud's delivery service whenever they needed to get something through one of the areas inhabited by those monsters. Cloud also kept a perimeter around Edge cleared out, which was large enough to keep them out of the town's rough borders most of the time.

Ignoring the rude noise, Marlene spoke up. "Did they all just show up today? Didn't you see them when you were patrolling, Cloud?"

Tifa looked startled, as if the thought hadn't occurred to her, and she turned to Cloud expectantly.

He shifted in his seat. "Yeah. I did. There were some different species around and more than usual, but I was taking care of it. I didn't see any reason to alarm anyone else."

Marlene eyed him shrewdly. "But you were sick all day yesterday, so you didn't do the patrol. That's why they got into town today. Does that mean…do you fight that many _every day_?"

Cloud crossed his arms and frowned. "Nowhere near. I don't know where they all came from."

More questions than answers, just like Tifa had said. But something was still bugging Denzel. He knew neither Cloud nor Tifa had taken the time to return to the house to get materia. "So who cast the fire? Was it you, Marlene?"

Marlene looked startled. "No! I went back and got the curing and support materia, but I didn't get anything to attack." She fiddled with a strand of hair, the way she always did when she was working through something in her mind. She looked up with wide eyes. "Does that mean someone else in Edge knows how to use materia now?"

Tifa hesitated. "I don't think so. No one admitted to it at the meeting."

Denzel looked at Marlene. She was still twirling the piece of hair, but she said nothing. His gaze moved to Cloud. His face was impassive as ever, but his eyes were seeing something far away from Seventh Heaven. Denzel had spent years learning to read the blond man's eyes, but all he could tell from them now was that he was deep in thought.

An audible growl from his stomach reminded Denzel that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and he finally started to dish up some food. "So what now? What are we going to do about it?"

Tifa looked down at the behemoth steak she was slowly cutting on her plate as she spoke. "Well…they're talking about building a wall around Edge." She was being evasive for some reason, apparently fascinated with the sight of the meat.

Denzel prodded further. "And? Everyone knows Cloud's the only one that can really fight around here." His eyes lit up. "They should, like, hire him! He could totally get paid for doing what he does already!"

Tifa glanced at Cloud, but he was still off in his own world, so she answered again. The steak was now being cut into pieces small enough to feed a baby chocobo. "Um, no, that didn't come up. Some of the people volunteered to do patrol around the town…"

Cloud's eyes suddenly snapped back into focus. "I need to go see if there's more to be cleared out. I'll be back in a few hours."

The other three watched in startled silence as he grabbed his sword and his keys and walked out the door. It was hours before the time he usually did his run, and he hadn't even touched the food. For a man who needed to eat as much as Cloud did, it was an ominous sign.

Later that evening Denzel was sitting on his bed, sketching, when he heard a soft knock on the door. "Come in," he said without looking up. The door creaked open and the bed shifted only slightly under the weight of the smaller girl. "What is it, Marlene?"

Marlene leaned forward as she studied the sketchpad upside-down. "Denzel, how do you know those girls?"

His pencil stopped moving, but he didn't look up. "Uh, I don't. I mean, I've just seen them around town. Why, do you know them?"

"Yeah…" Marlene said softly. "They're in my class. Why are you drawing them?"

Denzel snapped the book closed, irritated. "Is there some reason you need to be in my room, or did you just come to badger me about my hobbies?"

He regretted his harsh tone when he looked up and saw the quivering of her lip. Her eyes were already red from crying again. He ran a hand over his face wearily. "Aww jeez, Mar, I'm sorry. It's not a big deal. It's just a stupid drawing of some stupid girls I don't even know, ok?"

Marlene nodded, but her lip continued to quiver and tears slipped down her face. "It's ok," she said, her voice wobbly. "It's just…" She burst into full-fledged crying now, and Denzel sighed and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her head as her body shook. He was remembering the many times he'd done this when they were younger, when she was a little girl who needed constant reassurance that Barret still loved her, that she wasn't just a burden to Cloud and Tifa, that she was wanted. Denzel wasn't even sure that _he_ was wanted, that _he_ wasn't a burden, but he had murmured the words to her, over and over, until she believed them.

She had grown up to be smart and strong and resourceful and confident, and that uncertain little girl had been gone for so long, so why now? Denzel just held her and waited, knowing she was working up to it. She would get it out when she could.

Finally, sobbing into his shirt, she spit it out. "I couldn't do it, Denz. I tried, I swear, I wanted to, but you weren't moving, and the fire was so… and I thought…" she dissolved into tears again, leaving him to sort through her fragments of speech.

"You tried to…do you mean during the battle today? You healed me and you gave me protect and shell. I felt it and I saw it shimmering. You were amazing, Mar."

She pushed herself back up to a sitting position, removing herself from the protective circle of his arms as she calmed herself enough to be coherent, swiping at her face with her sleeves.

"No, Denzel. Later. After Tifa took down that big bird. That…thing was on top of you and you weren't moving, and then there was fire everywhere and everything was burning and _you_ were burning. Cloud ran over and picked you up before the fire even went out, and he yelled for me to heal you, and I tried, but you were so burned and there was this static in my head and I..." she looked up at him with big brown eyes begging for forgiveness. "I couldn't hear them, Denz. I couldn't hear the voices and I couldn't fix you!"

Tears were still streaming down her face freely, but the sobbing had subsided to those hiccupy gasps and at least she was making sense now. Denzel grasped her chin and brought her face up.

"Look at me, Mar. I'm fine, ok? Whatever happened, it doesn't matter, because I'm fine now. You were brilliant today! No one else even thought to get that materia, but _you did_. You went back to get it and you cured us and protected us while we were fighting, and it would've been so much worse without you. You have nothing to feel bad about."

Marlene blinked her blurry eyes and pulled her face away from his hand, turning her head to stare at the wall. "You didn't see them," she said softly. "Cloud looked so scared. His eyes looked like they were glowing red, and he was yelling at me to do it, but I couldn't. Tifa finally snatched the materia away from me and cured you herself."

She wrapped her arms around her knees. "I've never seen them like that before, you know? I've seen them in battles, and they stay calm and they work together, even if something bad happens. Cloud never yells, and Tifa never panics, and the only thing I could think of…the only reason they would be acting that way…was that it was too late. For you."

Her eyes were haunted. Denzel wanted to say something else to reassure her, but he couldn't. He was still processing all of this new information. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Look, it's really late and we have school in the morning. Let's just go to bed, ok?"

Marlene dropped her arms and stood up, looking like her usual, collected self, other than her blotchy face and shaky voice. "Yeah. I'm sure you're still tired after that fight. I'll…I'll see you in the morning, ok?"

He gave her a fond smile. "Yeah. G'night, Mar."

* * *

The big battle was the only thing anyone could talk about at school the next day. Theories abounded about where all the beasts and the fire came from, ranging from marginally possible to ridiculously outlandish.

Most of them had seen (or at least heard about) the size and sheer number of monsters. They knew of the destruction they caused to the buildings and the unsuspecting townspeople caught in the onslaught. They knew that their classmate, the unassuming freckled boy who sat in the back of class, had been in the fray.

Denzel was an instant celebrity. His lunch table was crammed with people who wanted to be called his friend. His desk was surrounded by kids peppering him with questions, at least until the teacher ordered them all to sit down and be quiet. Although he didn't get much of a chance to tell his side of the story, the tales grew taller as they spread throughout the school. Even better, the girl he'd had a crush on all year approached him in the hallway on his way to Math class.

"Hey Denzel."

"Alicia. H-hey." Denzel rubbed at the back of his neck, an unconscious habit he had picked up from Cloud. He focused on not tripping over his feet as they walked.

"So umm…I heard about what you did during the monster attack."

Denzel was sure his face was burning up. "Yeah, well, the stories might have been a little exaggerated," he said nervously.

They had reached his classroom and stopped walking. His eyes were drawn to the piece of hair Alicia was twirling around her finger. "Well, it sounds cool. So…see you around?"

"Y-yeah. Sure." Denzel fumbled.

Alicia gave him a quick peck on the cheek, smiled shyly, and then turned and walked away.

Denzel was rooted in place, stunned. He watched her as she joined up with a few friends who had obviously been waiting for her, giggling, and they walked on together.

Jason bumped him with his shoulder, startling him from his daze. "Hey, man. You going into class or what?"

"Oh! Yeah." Denzel went and took his seat, fairly certain that the foolish smile stayed on his face throughout the entire afternoon. Overall, it was a fantastic day for him. He practically floated home after school.

If he hadn't been so distracted, maybe he would have noticed that everyone else was unusually quiet at dinner. Maybe he would have wondered why Marlene was wearing long sleeves and pants, even though it was sweltering hot. Maybe he would have asked about the unusually strong smell of smoke. Maybe he would have noticed the distant look in Cloud's eyes, and the nervous glances from Tifa.

But he didn't.

* * *

As the little family gathered around him at one of the small round tables in the bar, Denzel rolled his eyes at their rendition of "Happy Birthday", but secretly he was pleased. They were goofy and loving and he felt as accepted in this family as he ever had with his parents.

Marlene was the first to give him a gift. She placed a medium-sized box in front of him on the table, saying "It's from Daddy and me."

Denzel was touched. Barret was friendly enough to him, but he wasn't the type to be remembering the boy's birthday. Marlene must have asked him to help pay for it since she didn't really have much money of her own. He peeled off the paper to reveal a polished wooden box with his name carved on the top. He looked over his shoulder at Marlene, but she smiled mysteriously and didn't answer.

Finding a latch on the front, he unhooked it and lifted a hinged cover. It was similar to a jewelry box, but instead of holding jewelry, it held dozens of compartments in three different sizes, with the smallest about the size of a marble, the largest the size of a golf ball. The compartments were grouped into different colored velvet layers. Marlene leaned over his shoulder, showing him how the upper layers could slide to the side to reveal the lower layers. "See, the yellow layer is for your command materia, the green for your magic materia, blue for support, purple for independent, and red for summon."

She stood back and waited for his reaction, but Denzel wasn't saying anything. Marlene was starting to get fidgety. Maybe he didn't like it. Maybe he thought it looked too girly. From her vantage point behind him, she couldn't see his face and she was starting to feel stupid.

But across the table from them, Tifa could see that Denzel was blinking rapidly. Finally he spoke, his voice wobbly and affectionate. "This is cool, Mar. Really cool. You're alright for a bratty little sister."

Relief washed over her face. She looked pleased as Denzel gave her a tight hug. She had spent over a month out in the garage with Cloud, working on her project as he worked on his. It really had turned out beautiful and Cloud was proud of the way she'd stuck to it. He was a little disappointed when she finished it, but only because he'd been enjoying the time he had spent with her in that stuffy garage. She had gotten closer to Tifa over these last few years and Cloud had missed the spirited little girl, but she was 12 now and turning into a hard-working, responsible young woman.

Tifa was next. She handed him a small box wrapped in shiny red paper. He ripped off the paper and removed the top of the box to reveal 5 marble-sized stones. There were 3 green, 1 blue, and 1 yellow.

"My own materia?" Denzel asked excitedly. "Wow, thanks Tifa! But um…why are they so small?" He had been practicing with Cloud's and Tifa's materia, which was much bigger.

"Because they're new," Tifa explained. "You'll have to level them up and they'll grow as they get stronger, but you'll be able to cast them much more effectively if you level them up yourself."

Denzel reverently placed the stones in the proper spots in the materia box. "These are amazing! Thanks, everyone. Cloud, can we go practice with these now?"

"Um, not quite yet." Looking shy and slightly embarrassed, Cloud slid a long, surprisingly light package across the table to Denzel. The teen gave him a questioning look, which was answered with a small smile. He had always received gifts from "Cloud & Tifa", always written in Tifa's curly script and perfectly wrapped paper. This one was clearly just from Cloud. It was loosely wrapped with the brown packaging paper he used for his delivery service and then covered with an excessive amount of tape.

Denzel tore into the gift with difficulty – did he seriously need to use packaging tape? – and after several minutes, he unwrapped enough to see the shiny metallic reflection. Getting excited, he ripped open the rest of the package haphazardly and dropped the paper shreds on the floor around him. He held up a longsword, beautifully made, perfectly balanced. The hilt was wrapped in strips of red leather, and 4 adjustable materia slots were set into the base of the blade. He admired it with awe. "Cloud, this is so perfect!"

Cloud made his way around the table and stood behind Denzel. "Look." He pointed out two small buttons on the guard, easy enough to reach with his thumbs, but out of the way where they wouldn't be accidentally bumped.

Curious, Denzel pushed the first button. A smaller sword separated from the main blade. It was spring-loaded and easy to release. He let out a whoop of joy and pressed the other button, popping off a medium sized blade. "My own fusion sword? Did you make this?"

Cloud gave a small nod. "Do you like it?"

Denzel set the swords on the table and jumped up, startling Cloud with a big hug. "Are you kidding? I love it! I couldn't have asked for anything better!" He released the blond man and bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, reminding Cloud strongly of Zack. He'd always had too much energy to burn.

Cloud couldn't help but smile, noticing absently that the boy was already almost as tall as him, and only 14. "Want to go try it out?"

"Hey!" Tifa interrupted. "Settle down, boys."

Their eyes were drawn to her with twin looks of dismay, as if she had dared to interrupt their playtime.

Tifa put her hands sternly on her hips. "What about the cake?"

* * *

Denzel's sudden popularity after the monster attack didn't immediately fade, but the interest in him dwindled as time passed. It was almost a relief. He was getting sick of being the center of attention everywhere he went and had started trying to lose his entourage at every opportunity. Even better, he'd finally found the courage to ask out Alicia, and she had agreed to meet up with him the following week, during their school break.

The week seemed to take forever as he fantasized about their date. On the last day of school before the break, he shoved his books into his backpack and headed out the side door of the school. He was surprised to see Jesse and Jason waiting for him on the other side of the door. They sometimes walked together if they happened to be leaving at the same time, but they had never actually waited for him before.

"Hey guys," Denzel greeted them. "On the way home?"

"Yeah. Wanna walk with us?" Jason asked.

"Sure," Denzel shrugged.

They started in the general direction of their homes and Jason nudged Denzel with his elbow. "Heard you got a hot date next week."

Denzel couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. "Yeah. With Alicia."

Jason whistled. "Nice! And what exactly are you planning?"

"Oh, just out for ice cream. And other stuff." Denzel grinned. "Cloud said he'd give me some tips."

Jesse laughed out loud. "Why would you take advice from _him_? I bet he's never even been with a chick."

Denzel blinked at him, perturbed. "What are you talking about? He's with Tifa.".

Jesse gave him a pitying look. "Dude, living in the same place and working together is not the same thing as actually _being_ together." Jesse shrugged and looked back at the path. "Dad says he only stays there 'cause Tifa has a soft spot for poor, pathetic strays. Same reason she lets you and that mousy little girl hang around."

A flare of anger lit inside of Denzel, but he held it back. He shouldn't let it get to him. He knew that Cloud and Tifa were a couple. He knew that they loved him and Marlene as if they were their own. Why should he care what a couple random kids from school think? He tried his best to keep the bite out of his voice. "Maybe your dad thinks he knows Tifa 'cause he hangs around the bar or something, but he doesn't know anything about us."

The twins exchanged a look that he couldn't interpret.

"What?" Denzel asked uneasily.

"Well…you know they all grew up together, right?" Jason asked. He was a bit more mellow than his brother and usually wasn't deliberately mean. "They're all from Nibelheim."

This sparked Denzel's interest. He still couldn't imagine Cloud as a kid. "Really? Were they friends? What was he like?"

Jesse laughed derisively. "A loser," he sneered, pulling Denzel's eyes back to him. "Dad says he was just a weirdo, and taking that mako stuff just made him weirder."

The recently smothered flame of anger surged. "He is not!" he defended. "Besides, he didn't even get mako shots. He said he wasn't even in SOLDIER."

Jesse snorted. "Yeah, ok. His eyes just started glowing for no reason. They didn't look like that when he was a kid, you know."

For a moment, Denzel didn't have an answer. He didn't know why his eyes looked the way they did, but he didn't believe Cloud would lie to him.

"Anyway," Jesse continued, "everyone knows mako attracts monsters, and it's his fault they attacked Edge. That's what everyone said at the town meeting." He shrugged with an air of nonchalance. "I'm sure he'll be banished from town soon."

Jesse didn't see it coming. He only felt the explosion of pain radiating from the center of his face as Denzel's fist smashed into his nose. Jesse stumbled backwards and landed on his butt in the dust, screaming as he held both hands over his nose. Jason tried to stick up for his brother, aiming a punch at Denzel that was easily deflected, and then his feet flew out from under him. His back hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from his chest. He struggled to breathe as his brother screamed, and Denzel turned away from them. He had lost his temper and regretted it already.

Letting out his breath slowly, Denzel turned around and held a hand out to Jesse. "I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have reacted like that. We're friends."

Jesse's eyes were watering and he still held his hands protectively over his nose. "Get away from me, you freak! We are _not_ friends!"

Denzel's hand dropped and he sighed. "Ok then." He turned and walked away, ignoring the stream of curses from behind him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at nothing but the ground in front of him as he continued toward home. It was a horrible way to end a great week. The twins hadn't been the greatest friends, but they were edgy and adventurous and they always had something new to show Denzel – usually the type of things Cloud and Tifa would not approve of. And he certainly hadn't wanted to make enemies of them.

He was deep in his brooding when a familiar sniffle reached his ears. He looked up, trying to find the source of the sound. He was passing what the kids called "The Wasteland", essentially a fenced-off dumping ground for trash. It was rumored that shady things happened there at night, but it was safe enough during the day.

Denzel froze and held his breath, listening intently. There it was again! A soft sniffle that was definitely coming from behind the fence. He climbed up to where the gap widened between the fence and the rocky wall that abutted the Wasteland, and pulled himself through. He navigated between the piles of garbage and stepped over some unidentified gooey substance on the ground. As he came around an especially tall heap of trash, he spotted the small figure huddled on the ground.

"Marlene!" He hurried to her side and squatted next to her on the ground. "Are you ok? What are you doing here?"

Marlene slowly raised her head from her arms. Her tear-stained face and wide eyes broke his heart, but his emotions swiftly turned to anger when he saw the bruise forming on her cheekbone. "Who did this to you?" he demanded.

She shook her head slowly and sniffled. "Just some girls. It doesn't matter." The unidentified goo was streaked down one side of her hair, and random pieces of garbage stuck to it. There were coffee grounds in her hair and trailing down to her shirt, which was also covered with assorted trash.

Denzel picked a piece of bread from the side of her head and tried to brush off the coffee grounds, but they were wet and some had sunk into her hair. He continued cleaning off the garbage as he said softly. "Tell me what happened."

Marlene looked distant. "They pretended they were my friends," she said hesitantly. "They said they wanted to show me something in the Wasteland, and then when we got in here they pushed me down and dumped a bucket of garbage on my head and then threw stuff at me." Her lip quivered. "I'm so dumb! I knew they weren't my friends, but I just wanted them to be…"

Denzel stood and helped her to her feet. "Let's go home, Mar. We need to tell Cloud and Tifa."

She froze. "No, we can't tell them! It'll just make it worse if they get involved."

He crossed his arms. "We can't just let them get away with it!"

"Yes, we can. It will be fine after the break, Denzel. They'll have forgotten all about me."

Denzel scowled. "Just tell me who did it, Mar."

"No. You'll try to fix it and I don't need your help. I'll deal with this myself."

He knew it was pointless to argue with her when she had that stubborn look in her eye. He sighed and let his arms drop to his sides. He led her through the piles of garbage and helped her through the gap in the fence. She was limping, and he stopped to examine her leg once they were outside the fence. Her knee was starting to swell.

Then he heard the last voice in the world he wanted to hear in that moment. Jesse.

"See, I told you. Makoid rage. Wait until we tell Dad."

Marlene burst into tears, humiliated. Anger pulsed through Denzel's head and he squeezed the materia in his pocket. "Leave. Us. Alone!"

A ring of fire sprang up around the twins. Jesse yelped and tried to take a step backwards before realizing they were completely surrounded.

Denzel looped Marlene's arm over his shoulder and started helping her walk forward.

"Denzel!" she hissed. "You can't just leave them like that!"

Fire _was_ a little hard to control once it was out of your hands, and he really didn't want to hurt them. He turned around and sent a few blasts of ice to smother the fires, shooting the boys one last warning look. Then he helped his sister home.

* * *


	3. The Reckoning

It was easy for adults to dish out advice about dealing with bullies – tell a teacher, tell a parent, tell someone you trust. Well, Marlene had tried that, once. She would never make that mistake again.

She had tried to tell her teacher, and the teacher had kept the four of them in for recess to "talk it out." Heather had just batted her lashes and said innocently, "Gosh, Marlene, we didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I tease my friends like that all the time—" Juliette and Annile had nodded in agreement "—and it's all in fun." The teacher had said that maybe they should keep their teasing a little milder if their friends were sensitive about it. The three girls nodded and agreed. The teacher had looked satisfied and then shooed them outside for the remainder of recess.

The trio had utterly ignored her for weeks after that, and then the three of them had some kind of falling-out. The week before break had started, Juliette had approached her. She said that she had gotten sick of Heather and Annile, that they were just too mean, and that she was sorry for her part in picking on Marlene in the past. She said she wanted to be friends, and for the entire week before break, she had waited for Marlene after class and saved her a spot at lunch. Heather and Annile had sat at a different table and glared at them. Marlene had always claimed that she didn't care about popularity, but when it came down to it, it really felt good to be hanging out with one of the popular girls. Everyone said hi to Juliette – she was undeniably pretty, and it was well known that her family was the wealthiest in town. Of course, no one was really _rich_ in Edge – they were living on the edge of the Midgar ruins, after all – but rich and poor are always relative.

Now, it was finally the last day of school before the break, and Juliette caught her arm in the friendly way she had been over the last week.

"Hey!" Juliette chirped. "Do you think you could help me feed these wild baby chocobos over break? I've been feeding them every day on the way to and from school , but I'm not sure if I'll be able to get there during the break."

Marlene was a tender-hearted girl, but she knew better than to interfere with nature if it wasn't necessary. "What about their mother?"

Juliette shrugged. "I think she's dead. She's never been around any of the times I've come around to feed them, and they always gobble up everything I bring them." She looked at Marlene, wide-eyed. "They'll starve if you don't help me, Marlene."

"Oh," Marlene breathed. "Well, maybe I can help. Where are they?"

"They're in the Wasteland. Walk with me. I'll show you on the way home."

The two girls walked along, chatting companionably, until they reached the Wasteland. "Give me a boost," Juliette said.

Marlene linked her fingers together for Juliette to step in, and then hoisted her up over the fence. Juliette dropped down on the other side and looked back expectantly. Marlene found hand and footholds in the chain-link fence and slowly, clumsily worked her way up over the top. By the time she made it to the other side, Juliette looked impatient.

"Hurry up, I have to get home soon," Juliette said before heading into the depths of the Wasteland.

Marlene hurried along behind her, trying to follow the other girl's weaving path through the trash piles. Finally, when the road was completely out of sight, Juliette stopped in a little clearing. They were in the section designated for compost, and it struck Marlene that even baby chocobos should be able to find plenty of food here.

"Where are they?" Marlene asked, looking around curiously.

The next thing she knew, the light had been blotted out, and cold and slimy things were sliding down her hair and face. Then she was moving, stumbling to stay on her feet as she was shoved back and forth. It didn't last long before she slipped on something, twisting her knee and falling down. Trying to ignore the pain in her knee, she reached up to her head. She felt something round and cold – a metal bucket. She grasped it and pulled it off, gasping as the rest of the gunk that had been trapped between the top of her head and the bucket showered down over her shoulders – egg whites, shells, coffee grounds, moldy leftovers, and some other unidentified slimy substance.

Shuddering, she tried to brush it off, but then she was being pelted with more. It was Juliette and Heather and Annile, throwing handfuls of whatever garbage they could reach. They wore work gloves – Gaia forbid they dirty their dainty hands – and somewhere in one of their indiscriminate throws was something hard and heavy. Marlene felt it strike her cheekbone, and then she put her arms up over her face and head to protect her from the rest.

"Come on guys, that's enough." It was Juliette, and she actually sounded like she felt a little guilty.

The onslaught stopped. Marlene peeked between her arms. Juliette was looking away from her, focusing all her attention on the other two girls, but Marlene was sure she looked uncomfortable.

"What? Wasn't that _mild_ enough for our _sensitive friend_?" Heather asked smugly. Throwing one last handful for good measure, she said, "Fine. Let's go."

The three girls walked away, leaving Marlene to pick off banana peels and egg shells. Hot tears burned behind her eyes. _Dontcrydontcrydontcrydontcry_ she chastised herself, but she couldn't stop them. They burned trails down her dirty face and dripped off her chin. That was how Denzel found her.

* * *

When they arrived back at Seventh Heaven, Marlene tugged on Denzel's sleeve. "Wait! I can't let Cloud and Tifa see me like this."

Denzel gave her a stern look. He still didn't seem too thrilled about the idea of keeping this whole thing a secret from them.

"Please, Denzel. Just help me," she begged.

He sighed. "Alright, fine. Just go around the corner so you're not right out in the open. I'll go make sure the way is clear, and then you can sneak in and get in the shower before they see you."

He nudged her in that direction and she hurried around to the side of the building while Denzel slipped inside. She made an attempt to finger-comb her hair, but it seemed that she was only succeeding in spreading the slimy substance. She sighed and gave up. What was she going to do? Clearly this was a problem that she needed to solve on her own, but _how_? Physically, she couldn't stand up to three girls at once. Maybe she should ask Tifa to teach her martial arts. But as quickly as the thought surfaced, she dismissed it. Violence wasn't the answer.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Denzel appeared around the corner. He joined her in the shadows. "Hold still," he ordered, squeezing his Restore materia in his hand.

A green glow peeked between his fingers. Marlene sighed as the cool, tingling feeling spread over her injuries. The swollen bruise on her cheek melted and faded away. Her knee throbbed one last time and then was quiet. Denzel was getting pretty good at healing, she reflected with a surge of pride. She almost could have passed for normal now, if not for the mess in her hair and shirt.

"Ok," Denzel said, pocketing the materia. "I didn't see anyone, but just stay behind me just in case we run into someone.

Marlene nodded and followed him to the front. Denzel poked his head through the door and looked around, and then motioned for her to follow. They made it across the bar. He pushed open the kitchen door and walked over the threshold, but as soon as Marlene tried to follow she was smacked in the face with the door.

A moment later she heard Tifa's voice. "Hey Denzel! How was school?"

"Uh, fine. Just, you know… a regular day."

Marlene rolled her eyes. He was such a terrible actor.

Then she heard the next-worst sound. The front door opened behind her. In fact, it was slammed open, banging against the wall before bouncing back. She pressed herself into the shadows next to the kitchen door, hoping she wouldn't be noticed, but the man's eyes immediately locked on her. He was dressed in a respectable suit, but his face was red with anger.

"I need to see Strife. Right now."

Marlene recognized him from the bar. Jameson Keenan. He hated Cloud with a passion. This could only be bad news.

"Oh. Um...let me go see if he's here," she said, keeping the strain out of her voice. At least he didn't seem to notice her disheveled appearance in the shadows. She pushed against the kitchen door, but it opened only a few inches, smacking into Denzel.

He kicked it back, his voice getting unnaturally higher-pitched. "Hey, actually, can you show me where you got those vegetables?"

_Seriously, **such** a bad actor!_

Tifa's voice, quiet but still audible: "I got them from the garden, Denz. Out back."

_"Denzel!"_ Marlene hissed through the door.

"Uh, yeah, I know, but I want to see where they're all planted." Denzel raised his voice and kicked the door again. "We've been learning about plants in school and I just thought they were interesting. So I thought maybe you could teach me about the ones you grow."

"Um, sure, I guess," Tifa said, sounding confused. "Just let me wash my hands first."

Marlene pushed against the door, banging into Denzel's foot again.

"No!" Denzel said loudly. "I mean, they'll just get dirty again. So let's go outside. Right now."

Marlene glanced behind her, wondering if the man was going to say anything about her inability to open doors. He was pacing angrily, not even looking at her at the moment.

Tifa sounded amused. "Ok, if it's that important to you," she said. "Come out back."

Marlene was just about to try the door again when it was flung open from the other side.

"Jeez Mar, couldn't you hear me talking?" Denzel muttered.

"Of course I could hear you," Marlene hissed. "But someone came in behind me and I look like an idiot standing here trying to get through the kitchen door. He asked to talk to Cloud!"

Denzel glanced over her shoulder and saw the angry-looking man pacing in the bar area. "Ok, I'll handle him. Just get upstairs," he whispered.

Marlene didn't need to be told twice. She darted past him and up the stairs.

* * *

Denzel walked out into the bar area to greet the pacing man. "I'm sorry, Cloud's not here right now. Can I help you with something?"

The man paused and looked him up and down, eyes narrowed, and finally said, "You must be the boy. _Den_ zel." He spit his name like it was a disease.

Denzel gulped as he got a good look at his face. It was the man from his drawing, and he was even more intimidating in person. He towered over Denzel in his business suit. A drop of sweat trickled down next to a hairline just beginning to recede, and his belly strained against the buttons of the suit as he breathed in and out.

"Um, y-yes, sir," Denzel stammered.

He was rescued from further interrogation by the kitchen door swinging open. "Denzel, are you coming or—Oh! Hello Jameson! It's been a long time." Tifa put a hand on her hip as she took in his heavy breathing and confrontational stance. "Is something wrong?" The concern in her voice was soothing and the redness in the man's face started to fade.

"Oh, Tifa," he said, his gruff voice becoming more gentle. "Sorry to barge in like this, but I need to talk to Strife. Where is he?"

She gave him a pleasant smile and the man seemed to relax another degree. "He's out on a delivery right now, but he should be back in a few hours. I can have him call you when he gets in."

In his mind, Denzel thanked Tifa for her uncanny ability to calm anyone down.

Jameson sat down on one of the stools at the bar counter. "That's ok. I'll wait."

Tifa blinked, but recovered quickly. People seemed to forget this was a home when it was not serving as a bar. "Oh. Ok, sure. Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah. Give me something stiff, honey."

"You got it, Jay." She glanced up. "Denzel, get started on your homework."

Sighing, Denzel sat down at their usual table and pulled out his books. He didn't bother arguing that they had the entire break for homework; the rule had always been homework first. Besides that, he didn't have any desire to leave Tifa and this man alone. Jameson shot daggers at him with his eyes, ignoring the glass Tifa set before him. Denzel pretended to be engrossed in his textbook, although Civics was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

"So Jameson," Tifa said smoothly, drawing his attention back to her. "I heard that you had started your own company." She laughed lightly. "You always were the entrepreneur of our crew. I can't say I'm surprised."

The man puffed out his chest proudly. "Well, yes, it was very difficult, but I got it started about a year ago—"

Denzel watched them out of the corner of his eye. The bar wouldn't be open for hours, but Tifa was the ever-perfect hostess, and she patiently refilled his drink and chatted casually with him as though she had nothing better to do, like get ready to open the place for _paying_ customers.

Jameson took every opportunity to touch Tifa. He was constantly squeezing her arm or touching her hip. Each time he put his hand on her, she politely stepped away, but he didn't seem to be taking the hint – or if he did, he was still being creepily hopeful.

At some point, Marlene had come downstairs, freshly showered, and pulled out her own textbooks at their table. Denzel tried to concentrate on his homework, but it was hard to block out the voice of the man talking about himself nonstop. Tifa was getting set up for the night behind the bar – at least the part she could do up front – but making the appropriate noises to show she was listening to his bluster.

Denzel no longer ran outside to greet him every time he heard Fenrir, but he always felt a little safer when Cloud came home. Even today, knowing that he was about to get in trouble, he felt relieved at the familiar sound of the engine. He just wanted the whole scene over with at this point.

The door opened and Cloud walked in. It looked like it had been a rough delivery. His face was dirty and there were splashes of blood from some beast on his arm and the front of his shirt. He was wiping at his face with a clean corner of his shirt, so he didn't immediately see the man sitting at the bar. "Tifa," he groaned, "you wouldn't believe what—"

His face dropped into its stoic mask when he noticed their guest, but his voice was pleasant enough. "Jameson Keenan? Good to see you again." He eyed the glass in his hand. "Getting an early start tonight?"

Jameson set down his glass on the bar loudly. "About time, Strife."

Cloud gave him a bland smile. "Yeah, busy day. Did you need something from me?" He walked behind the bar and turned on the sink, wetting his hands and forearms and then slathering them with soap.

"Yeah. I got a beef with your kid."

Cloud continued scrubbing calmly. "Which one?"

Jameson was flustered for a minute, clearly not expecting Cloud to claim Marlene. "The uh…the boy. _Den_ zel."

Cloud turned off the water and took the towel from Tifa's hands to dry off. "Marlene, go finish your homework in your room."

Marlene gathered up her books and papers without a word. Denzel tried to skulk out behind her.

"Not you, Denzel," Tifa warned. "Sit."

Looking glum, Denzel sat back down in his chair and finished putting his books and papers away, and then fidgeted with the strap of his backpack nervously.

Jameson seemed to have forgotten his anger while he was busy flirting with Tifa, but he was starting to get worked up again. The redness was coming back into his face. "That's right. You and me and the boy need to have some words." He looked back at Tifa apologetically. "I'm sure you don't want to hear this Tifa. You should leave."

Tifa raised an eyebrow and Denzel covered his laugh with a fake cough. He could almost hear the thoughts in Tifa's head. _He did **not** just try to kick me out of my own bar to have a discussion about **my** family!_ Out loud, she only said coolly, "Denzel's mine, too. If he's done something wrong, you can talk to both of us." She took Cloud's hand as they walked to the table.

Jameson's eyes flickered to their linked hands and a look of disbelief crossed his face. He stood up to his full height and tried to look intimidating as he grabbed his glass and followed them to the table where Denzel sat bouncing his foot nervously. The twins' father was taller, but Cloud was an imposing figure of solid muscle and cool blue eyes that could not be intimidated, least of all by some overweight, posturing businessman. The blood still smeared on his clothes probably didn't hurt, either.

Once everyone was seated, he jabbed a manicured finger in Denzel's direction, but directed all his frustration at Cloud. "Your boy is a thug and a bully, Strife. You're raising him to be just like you, and he's a danger to the innocent citizens of this town. I know he was the one who started that big fire. _You_ lured all those beasts into town and _he_ almost burned it down." He was practically quivering with anger. "You know how many houses and businesses were damaged that day? He's just as unstable as you, and he needs to be locked up before he hurts anyone else!"

There was a period of silence following his dramatic pronouncement while Cloud calmly assessed the bigger man. "Did something happen that you'd like to tell us about, Jameson? Or did you come just to call him names and fling accusations?" His voice was low and mild, highlighting the excessive drama of the bigger man.

Jameson's hands formed into fists and a scowl locked in place. "Yeah, I got something to tell you. That little punk assaulted both my boys for absolutely no reason today." He leaned forward and his eyes narrowed on the teen. "He broke Jesse's nose and he practically beat Jason unconscious. And then, when they were both on the ground and helpless, he tried to set them on _fire_."

Denzel scoffed loudly, but Cloud shot him a warning look, so he closed his mouth.

The burly man redirected his furious gaze to Cloud. " _That_ was a mistake. See, now I know the truth, Strife. You convinced the rest of the town that you didn't start that fire, and you know what? I believe you, too. That kid is just as deranged as you. _He_ is the one who started the fire. I'm going to make sure –"

"Jay, none of us had any fire materia that day," Tifa cut him off, her blazing eyes the only indication that her limits were being pushed. "Denzel didn't start that fire."

Jameson shifted his focus to her, softening. "Teef, I'm sure that's what they told you, but he must've had it hidden on him somewhere. Can't you see those two are trouble?" He leaned forward and lowered his voice to an intimate level. "I'm worried about you living here with them. It's not safe."

This time, Denzel couldn't hold back his incredulous snort. Was this guy for real? If he honestly thought either Cloud or Denzel were dangerous, it would have been exceedingly stupid to call attention to that fact _right in front of them_. It wasn't as if Jameson could stop Cloud – heck, probably not even Denzel – if he were truly a threat to Tifa. Even to a boy, it was a transparent attempt to make himself look like a hero in Tifa's eyes. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing Tifa hated more than to be treated like a delicate flower who needed protecting.

She leaned back in her chair and put her hand on Cloud's knee, claiming and calming him at the same time. Denzel could see the tension in the way Cloud held himself, but he heeded her wordless reassurance and let her handle it.

"I'm fine, Jameson," she bit out.

His eyes were pleading and he reached for her free hand, which she pulled away. "Look, since Marcy died, we have some extra space. You could come stay with us, and—"

Denzel was truly shocked at the man's stupidity. He glanced over at Cloud to see how he was reacting to all this. His face showed nothing, but the bulge of his jaw muscles and the ice in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Jameson. Drop it." Tifa's voice carried a warning that no man would be stupid enough to ignore, even if he missed the clench of Cloud's jaw, and he wisely snapped his mouth shut. There was an uncomfortable silence as they all looked at each other.

Cloud cleared his throat. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell us about Denzel?" he asked tightly.

The heavy man's face reddened again. "That's not enough?"

"It's enough," Cloud said firmly. "Denzel will be disciplined. Did anything else happen?"

Denzel winced inwardly. _That_ didn't sound good.

"Well, that's…no. I mean, nothing else that I know of." Jameson seemed put out that his pronouncement hadn't triggered more of a reaction. "But to be honest, Strife, I don't have much faith in your 'parenting' ability. So if I ever catch him out on the street, I'll teach that boy a lesson myself!"

Denzel's eyes flickered to Tifa. _Strike three,_ he thought, holding back his smile as he enjoyed Tifa's predictable reaction. She hauled Jameson out of the chair by his arm and stared him down with the fierceness of a lioness protecting her cubs. She spoke quietly, but with a tone that chilled the room. " _We_ will discipline Denzel. If you so much as lay a finger on my child, I will hunt you down myself, Jameson. Now get out of my house."

He looked completely startled by her anger. _He really doesn't know her as well as he thinks he does,_ Denzel thought gleefully.

Jameson struggled to recover her good graces. "Tifa, I—"

Her eyes flared. "Get. Out."

The man was more than a foot taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier than Tifa, but he cowered under her withering look and shuffled out the door after some mumbled attempts at an apology.

Denzel had never felt more proud of his unofficial guardians. They had shown a unified front and made it clear that they wouldn't be bullied. In fact, Cloud and Tifa seemed angrier at Jameson than at him. Maybe this wouldn't be as painful as he'd thought.

* * *

He was wrong. So wrong. It was painful. Cloud and Tifa had given him a chance to tell his side, but it didn't seem to make much difference. They were _furious_ with him.

As if their anger and disappointment weren't bad enough, they really threw down the hammer with his punishment. Cloud counted out the terms on his fingers.

"No phone, no TV, no video games, no friends, no skateboard. You will bring your sword and materia to me. Tifa will give you a list of chores to complete around the bar and the apartment. During the break, you are not to leave unless Tifa sends you somewhere for a specific task. After the break, you will come straight home after school and work on either homework or the chores."

"After the.." Denzel sputtered. "How long am I grounded?"

"Until further notice," Cloud growled. "Until we're sure you've learned your lesson."

Denzel was reeling. They had _never_ punished him like this before. "But…but I have a date!" he protested.

"Too bad."

"Can I at least call her to cancel—"

"No." Cloud wasn't budging.

"But she—" Denzel tried to interrupt again, and again Cloud spoke over the top of him.

"The answer is no. And if we ever—" Cloud put his palms on the table and leaned forward to make sure he had the boy's attention "— _ever_ hear of you using weapons or magic to threaten another student, we're done."

Denzel felt like he'd been stabbed through the heart. "Done?" he squeaked. "You're going to kick me out?"

Cloud's eyes softened just a bit. "Done training you," he clarified. "Taking away your sword and materia. We're not teaching you these things so you can threaten anyone who irritates you. We're teaching you how to defend yourself and others in a life or death situation."

Denzel felt a surge of anger. He made it sound like some kid had been poking him with a pencil. He'd been trying to defend the man, and he was getting punished for it! "Yeah, but you should have heard the stuff they were saying about you, Cloud! The stuff Jameson was telling them."

Cloud's expression didn't change. "So?"

"So?! I couldn't just let them talk about you like that."

Cloud sighed and sat down at the table, rubbing his face. "Denz, no matter who you are or what you do, there are going to be some people that just don't like you. If you let it get to you, you'll spend your whole life trying to be who _they_ think you should be instead of becoming the person _you_ want to be."

Denzel scowled and pushed back from the table. "Fine, you know what? I don't care what they say about you. I'm never standing up for you again. Are we done now?"

Cloud sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "Yeah, we're done."

The boy pushed back his chair with a screech and stormed past them, too angry to even ask about the black handprints marking the table where Cloud had been standing.

* * *

Marlene didn't remember her real parents. They had died when she was too young to recall their faces. Barret had been "Daddy" for as long as she could remember, and she knew he loved her, but she had come to accept that he simply wasn't capable of providing her a stable home. He had too many demons of his own and it seemed that he needed to deal with them without the burden of a little girl to care for.

In the beginning, she had wanted to believe that her living situation with Cloud and Tifa was just temporary. Every time Barret came to visit, she packed her little pink suitcase and waited hopefully for him to say "C'mon, Marlene, let's go home." Every time she felt the stabbing pain of disappointment as she unpacked her suitcase after he left.

In her fantasies, she had imagined that he would take her to a tidy little house with a white wooden fence and lots of pets. Then one day, her fantasy changed: Barret took her home, but when she went inside, all she could picture was Seventh Heaven. To her, home was round bar stools that she had to climb up to reach, that she would sit upon and spin in circles until she was too dizzy to stand. Home was the designated "family" table in the bar where they gathered every morning and evening; the little bedroom where Denzel had drawn chalk pictures on the wall to make her smile and where they sat up late whispering in the dark; the bathroom where Cloud had made his first sloppy attempt at braiding her hair, and then did it over and over until she was satisfied; the big industrial-size kitchen where Tifa cooked fabulous meals; the garage filled with the smell of grease and oil and the sound of clanking tools on metal; the leather seat on Fenrir where she felt Cloud's solid frame at her back, the safety of his arms on either side of her, the wind flying through her hair.

In her new fantasy, Barret was there, but in the background. Home was Cloud and Tifa and Denzel, and wherever she went, it would no longer be home without them.

Once she understood and accepted this, she still looked forward to Barret's visits, but with one fundamental difference. In her mind, they were _only_ visits. Her place was here, and she knew that she would always have a place here, no matter what happened.

Of course she knew that a bar isn't an ideal environment for raising a little girl, but she really couldn't have asked for a better role model than Tifa. Marlene learned about hard work and responsibility; she learned when to use a soft touch and when to stand up for herself. She also learned how to observe and read people.

She knew that adults underestimated her because of her small stature, wide eyes, and her sweet voice. She was not above using this to her advantage, and adults' perception of her as naive and clueless meant their tongues were looser than they should have been around her. As she bussed tables and swept the floor, they assumed they could talk over her head and she wouldn't understand. On the contrary, behind her innocent front was actually an extremely sharp, observant mind. She blended into the world of adults seamlessly, which may have been the reason that it was harder for her to fit in with kids her own age. Kids had different motivations. Their reasoning was different. She just didn't understand them the way she understood adults.

In the bar, Marlene watched the townspeople come and go. She watched how Cloud and Tifa and Denzel interacted with each other, with acquaintances and strangers. She knew the personalities and habits of everyone who regularly crossed the threshold of Seventh Heaven, and as such, she knew that the _real_ conversation would take place after Denzel left the room.

After dutifully finishing her homework in her bedroom, she had decided that it would be a nice gesture to clean the kitchen. Hadn't she noticed that the stove could use an extra good scrubbing? If she happened to be close enough to overhear their conversation, they couldn't possibly fault her for wanting a nice clean stove, right?

By the time she was within hearing distance, the angry man had left, and Denzel was in the middle of having his punishment handed down. Cloud was _really_ mad. Marlene felt a little sorry for her brother when he stormed up the stairs without even noticing her in the kitchen. Cloud and Tifa both lowered their voices, and she noticed that the counter nearest the swinging door looked a little dirty, too. She crept closer, using Denzel's stomping footsteps as cover for her own.

Tifa's voice sounded strained. "..you know Jameson carries a lot of weight with the council. I'm afraid he's going to make trouble for Denzel."

"He won't," Cloud said firmly. "I'll go talk to the council. I'm going to take credit for the fire."

"Cloud, you can't! He's already convinced a few people that the monsters are being drawn in by you. He can make a case to get you kicked out if—"

"I know! I know. And that's why I let you talk me out of it before. But I'm not going to let him use Denz to get back at me." His voice softened. "You heard what they said at the town meeting. It won't be easy for him to turn everyone against me after—"

"Yeah but—"

"Do you have a better idea, Tifa?" Cloud interrupted. "Because you know Jameson is dangerous and we have no idea what he's going to do. At best, he could easily get Denzel taken away from us."

Tifa sounded shocked. "At best?"

"Yeah," Cloud murmured. "At worst…he could get him locked up, prosecuted, or arrange a tragic accident when he's alone."

In the kitchen, Marlene shivered. She had recognized the man. He served on the board for Reconstruction of Commerce in Edge. She knew he had lost his wife in some kind of accident years before, and that he still considered the barmaid 'his Tifa'. She knew that he had grown up with Cloud and Tifa, that the relationship he boasted about with Tifa was much closer than Marlene had ever observed, and that for some reason he seemed to think Cloud had stolen her away from him.

He really hated Cloud. Marlene overheard him ranting to his friends at Seventh Heaven on more than one occasion, but it was awfully hard to turn people against the Hero of Midgar.

Still, it was hard to believe that Jameson would do something so vicious to a 14-year-old boy. Then again, Barret was fun and loving, but no one wanted to be in his way when his little girl was threatened.

Tifa spoke hesitantly, drawing Marlene from her thoughts. "Give me a few days. I can fix this."

"I don't know if Jameson is going to wait that long."

"I can deal with Jameson. He still has a soft spot for me—"

"Really?" Cloud muttered sarcastically.

"—and I'm sure I can talk him into some leniency."

"…Talk?"

"Yes, talk." Her voice was clipped, offended by what he was insinuating. "But in the meantime…I think you should keep Denzel out of sight. Out of town." She hesitated for a moment. "And you, too."

"No way, Tifa!"

"Honestly, do you think I can't handle that man?" Marlene couldn't see her face, but she still imagined the look she was giving Cloud.

"Of course not. You'd have him knocked out before he knew what hit him."

"So what are you so worried about? Besides, he still holds such a grudge against you…it's almost like he can't listen to reason when he sees your face. I think if I can get him to calm down, he'll listen to me.

Cloud sighed. "I don't know about this, Tifa. Where are we supposed to go?"

"Abe's been asking you to make that delivery to his friend way out in the mountains, right?"

"Yeah," Cloud snorted, "and it's a three day drive mostly through undeveloped wilderness."

"Exactly," Tifa said. "Tell him you'll take the job, and take Denzel with you. It will buy me some time to get Jameson calmed down." She paused. "I need you to trust me on this, Cloud."

There was silence on the other side of the door, but Marlene knew them well enough to understand that Tifa had won the argument. She walked quietly halfway up the steps and then loudly back down again. Pushing the swinging door open boldly, she walked carelessly out into the bar area. "Oh, hey guys. I'm done with my homework. Are we eating anytime soon?"

Tifa quickly painted a smile on her face. "Yeah, we're having leftovers. Cloud and Denzel need to hit the road before it gets any darker."

Marlene acted surprised. It was a craft she had perfected, knowing far more secrets than anyone suspected. "Really? Where are they going?"

"Cloud has a long-distance delivery, so they're going to make a camping trip out of it."

Denzel caught the tail end of the conversation as he came down the stairs. " _Excuse_ me? Do I get a say in this?" he asked moodily.

Tifa gave him her sternest look. "No, you don't. You two need to have some guy time."

"Really? Sounds like a blast," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "All day on the bike and then sleeping on the hard ground at night."

"You're grounded all week anyway, Denzel. Would you rather be stuck in the house doing chores?" She asked it in the form of a question, but her tone made it clear that there was only one right answer.

Denzel scowled. "Yipee. Can't wait for guy time."

* * *

They all ate quickly that evening. The boys were exempt from cleanup because they needed to leave as soon as possible. Marlene grumbled about it being Denzel's turn as she brought the dishes back into the kitchen. Of course she _knew_ why they needed to leave right away, but that didn't stop her from complaining about the extra chores.

"Marlene! Wait!" Denzel caught her by the arm and held out a folded piece of paper.

Marlene set the dirty dishes in the sink and took the paper suspiciously. She unfolded it and scoffed. It was a phone number and "Alicia" written in curly script. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"I need you to call her tomorrow," he said, his eyes pleading. "I'm grounded from the phone and I need to tell her that I can't make it for our date this week."

Marlene raised an eyebrow. "You want me to call your girlfriend and tell her you're ditching her," she said dryly.

"No! Just tell her I had to leave town unexpectedly and that I'll call her when I get back." Marlene didn't look convinced, so he made an attempt at her big puppy dog eyes. " _Please_ , Mar!"

Of course Marlene would do it; he had been a huge help after school and she wasn't going to refuse him a favor, but that didn't mean she had to sound _too_ willing. "This is going to be the mother of all awkward conversations, but…fine. I'll call her tomorrow."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Marlene!" He gave her a big, loud kiss on the cheek, which she promptly wiped off with a grimace.

"Oh, here." She reached over to the hooks by the back door and handed him the helmet. "You know Fenrir doesn't have a speedometer."

"Yes it does," he said, making a face as he put on the helmet and secured the strap under his chin. "Cloud just doesn't know how to read it. How come he makes us wear one, but he doesn't have to?"

"Because he's not breakable," Marlene smirked as she patted the top of the helmet. "Have fun, Denz."

* * *

The sun was already setting by the time they packed their few bags in Fenrir's compartments. Denzel couldn't believe he was being forced to go along with this stupid trip. He was already angry with Cloud, and the idea of putting up with him for a week straight sounded like the worst possible way to spend the school break. Maybe they had decided this would be a better punishment for him.

"Uh, why are we leaving tonight? It's already getting dark. Why don't we sleep in our beds for one more night and leave in the morning?" Denzel was trying his best to sound diplomatic, but he was so irritable that he didn't think he pulled it off.

"No," Cloud said shortly. "We need to leave tonight."

"We're just gonna have to stop in an hour anyway. What's the point?"

Cloud adjusted his goggles and started Fenrir. "Get on, Denzel."

If he hadn't already been in so much trouble, he might have argued further, but Cloud was clearly not in a negotiating mood. Arguing would have only made things worse for Denzel. He sighed and sat on the seat behind Cloud and held on tight.

* * *

"Marlene, I need to go out for a while," Tifa said as they cleaned up the breakfast dishes the next day. "I need to go talk to a friend. I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Talk to a friend?" Marlene said innocently. "Can I come with?"

"Um, no, I don't think that's a good idea this time," Tifa hedged.

"Why? Which friend are you going to see? Doesn't your friend like me?" She turned her big brown eyes on Tifa.

Tifa softened under the force of those eyes, as always. "No, of course he doesn't dislike you, sweetie. It's just going to be a very serious talk."

Marlene was getting frustrated with how vague Tifa was being. "Are you going to go visit that angry man that was in here last night about Denzel?"

Tifa looked startled. "Well, yes. I am. And it really should be a private conversation."

"What if he tries to make a move on you?"

A startled laugh escaped from Tifa before she could suppress it. "Make a move?"

Marlene scowled. "Yes. I saw the way he was acting before Cloud got home yesterday. I don't trust him alone with you."

Tifa put her hands on her hips, looking irritated. "Really, Marlene, do you think I can't handle Jameson by myself?"

"No, I think you would kick his butt if he tried something."

"Exactly, so—"

"And that would just make him madder, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, probably, but—"

"And you need him to not be mad at you. Right?"

Tifa sighed and her arms dropped to her sides. "What's your point, Marlene?"

"Well, he wouldn't try anything in front of a little girl, would he?"

Tifa considered the girl thoughtfully.

"Wouldn't it be best to avoid that kind of situation altogether?" Marlene prodded.

Slowly, a smile spread across Tifa's face. "You know, you're really wise beyond your years, little girl."

Marlene smiled smugly. "I'm not really a little girl anymore. But I know that's how Jameson will see me anyway."

The smile faded slowly as Tifa tucked a lock of hair behind Marlene's ear. "No, you're not, are you?" she asked quietly. "Ok, let's go," she said, holding out her hand. Together, they went to save Denzel.

* * *

The twins and their father lived only a few blocks away from Seventh Heaven. A minute after Tifa rapped confidently on the wooden door, it was opened by a sullen-looking teen with a swollen nose and a black eye. "Hello Jesse," Tifa said pleasantly. "Is your father home?"

Jesse ignored her and studied Marlene. "You look better than the last time I saw you," he said suspiciously.

"You don't," Marlene retorted.

Jesse scowled and turned around. "Dad! Door!" he yelled. Without another word, he walked into the depths of the house, leaving the door open with the girls standing on the doorstep.

"What's he talking about, Marlene?" Tifa asked.

"Nothing," Marlene muttered.

"We'll talk about this later," Tifa whispered as Jameson came into view in the darkened house.

"Tifa!" he boomed grandly. "Please, come in! It's so nice to see you! Oh, and your little girl, too." He leaned over and patted Marlene on the head like a dog.

Marlene kept her eyes wide and her smile plastered on as Jameson ushered them inside. "Coffee? Tea? Lemonade? Something stronger?" he asked, winking at Tifa.

"Coffee would be wonderful, thank you." Tifa said pleasantly.

"May I have some lemonade?" Marlene asked sweetly.

Jameson squatted down in front of her with difficulty. "Of course you can. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Marlene," she said, batting her eyes again for good measure.

"Coming right up, honey. The boys are playing video games in the family room if you want to join them," he said. "I bet you get bored listening to grownups talk, don't you?"

"Umm, I don't really like video games. But I brought some coloring with me," she said, letting her mini backpack slide from her shoulders onto the floor. "I'd rather stay close to Tifa."

"Oh. Of course." Jameson grabbed the chair and used it to pull his bulk back up. "I'll be right back. Have a seat," he said, smiling.

Tifa and Marlene sat down at the small, round table, and Marlene pulled out a coloring book. Tifa gave her a look as if to say _'Laying it on a little thick?'_ but Marlene just smiled serenely and started coloring. To her credit, it was an intricate design that she was neatly filling in with colored pencils, not really a child's coloring book. She hadn't actually said or done anything that looked like she was _intentionally_ misleading him about her age, so was it really her fault if he made incorrect assumptions?

Jameson returned with their drinks and sat down across from Tifa. "I'm glad you came to see me, Teef. Where is uh…Strife?" His voice was neutral enough, but Marlene heard the strain underneath it when he mentioned his name.

"Cloud and Denzel are out of town," Tifa said lightly. "They're making a delivery way out in the mountains."

Jameson seemed to relax a little. "Is that so? That drive must take days. Won't you be lonely?"

"Not at all," Tifa said. "Marlene will be with me." She smiled down at the girl.

"But it will be just the two of you?" he persisted. "I hope you don't plan to advertise that. Some people might try to take advantage of two ladies alone."

Tifa set down her coffee and crossed her arms. "Really? Yesterday you were worried that Cloud was dangerous. Today you're worried that I'm in danger while Cloud's gone?"

Jameson sighed heavily. "Yeah. I owe you an apology. I might have overreacted yesterday. You don't know what it's like when something happens to your kids, though. You just go into this super-protective mode and—" He flinched at the look on her face. "Sorry, I guess you probably do know," he said, glancing at Marlene. "Anyway, at least I know that no one would dare try anything when he's around. But if he's gone…"

"You really need to get this stupid idea out of your head, Jay. Since when have I _ever_ needed a bodyguard?"

Tifa's voice had taken on an edge that made Marlene nervous. ' _Keep your cool, Tifa,'_ Marlene begged in her head. ' _Don't make him mad…'_

Luckily, Jameson diffused it himself. "You're right, Teef. I'm sorry. I know you can handle yourself. It's just, Marcy was so fragile, and sometimes I forget you're not her."

Tifa softened at the wistful look on his face. "It's ok. Actually, I owe you an apology, too. I shouldn't have been so…abrupt when you came to see us."

A smug smile flickered on his face.

"I meant what I said," Tifa clarified sharply. "You won't lay a finger on Denzel. But…maybe it was out of line to kick you out like that."

Jameson stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Everything's forgiven, Tifa. I suppose you can't help but be influenced by those ruffians living with you."

Tifa's muscles tensed, but her voice stayed level. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that, too. About Denzel. I told you we would hold him responsible for the fight with your boys, and we will, but he's really not a bad kid. He didn't do anything wrong on the day of the monster attack."

One of Tifa's hands was wrapped around her coffee mug and the other lay next to it on the table. Jameson reached over and held the unoccupied hand. The hand on her mug twitched, but she didn't pull it back.

Her leaned forward and looked at her earnestly. "Tifa, I know you've done your best with those orphans you take in. You are truly an admirable woman, the way you try to help those in need. Times are hard for everyone, yet you put everyone else before yourself. You've always been that way, even when you took Cloud in all those years ago."

Tifa's brow furrowed. "Jay, Cloud was hired by AVALANCHE as a highly trained specialist for their operations. We worked together. I didn't _take him in_. And when we were all traveling, he was the leader. If anything, he was taking care of _me—_ of all of us, really."

Jameson scowled slightly. Marlene supposed he didn't want to ruin the deliberately crafted image he had in his head of Cloud – dangerous, needy, selfish. "My point is that you can't save everyone, Tifa. Sometimes you just get a bad seed…or two…and they're just beyond help. It's _not your fault_ that you couldn't save Cloud or that boy." He squeezed her hand emphatically.

Tifa pulled her hand away to pour a dollop of cream in her coffee, although Marlene knew she drank it black. Her hand shook as she tilted the cream toward the cup.

"What did Denzel do that was so bad?" Marlene asked quietly.

Jameson looked surprised to hear her speak. "Sweetheart, you're a little too young to—"

"Jay thinks Denzel started the fire on the night of the monster attack," Tifa said, grateful for the girl's interruption.

"But he couldn't have," Marlene said serenely.

"What do you mean?" Tifa asked, tilting her head.

"He was already unconscious by the time the fire started." Marlene kept her eyes locked on Jameson's. She knew how people looked when they told lies, and she knew how they looked when they told the truth. She needed him to see the truth in her eyes.

Jameson scoffed loudly. "You couldn't possibly know—"

"She was right there," Tifa interrupted. "Marlene is a gifted healer. She was helping with the fight."

Jameson's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Yeah but…how do you…I'm sure he was just _pretending_ to be out—"

Marlene sat up straight and gave him her most sincere look. "He was lying face-down on the ground, not moving, while a chuse tank was carving chunks out of his back. Trust me when I tell you: Denzel was unconscious. There was no possible way he started that fire."

Jameson's eyes flickered back and forth between the two girls. Marlene kept the innocent look on her face; she could almost see the thoughts in his head. If he wanted to continue blaming Denzel, he either had to discredit this perfectly behaved, well spoken little girl, or somehow prove that she was mistaken. In her mind, she dared him to try. She would welcome the challenge.

Finally, he got his thoughts together. "Fine. If the boy didn't do it, I still suspect Strife. Everyone knows he could do it easily."

Tifa sighed wearily. "Yes, everyone heard your argument at the town meeting. The elders said they believed Cloud's statement that he had no materia."

"Hm. Well, we'll see," Jameson said mysteriously.

Marlene gathered up her colored pencils and book and stowed them in her backpack. "Tifa, we're going to miss my lesson if we don't leave soon."

Tifa latched onto that. "Right. Well, thank you for your hospitality, Jay. I appreciate you hearing us out."

Jameson smiled as he stood, but the smile was sour. "You know you're welcome in my home anytime, Teef." He walked them to the door and held it open, but caught Tifa's wrist as she exited behind Marlene. "I mean it, you know. You should visit more often. I miss you," he murmured softly.

Tifa smiled kindly. "I'll check my schedule, Jay."

* * *

"Wow, could he be _any_ more pathetic over you?" Marlene moaned as soon as they were out of sight.

Tifa frowned down at her as they walked. "It's really hard to have feelings for someone who doesn't feel the same way back, Marlene. Try not to judge him too harshly."

"Oh," Marlene said, looking abashed. "Is that how you used to feel about Cloud?" When there was no response from Tifa, Marlene smiled sweetly. "Well, he can be kind of slow sometimes. It just took him a little longer to figure out that he loved you."

Tifa laughed out loud. "You know, you are quite the perceptive girl. By the way, thanks for your help with Jay back there. I get so worked up when he insults my family like that. I lose focus."

"You're welcome," she said happily. "So did it work? Is Denzel off the hook? We can call the boys and tell them to come home already!"

"Hm. Probably not quite yet. Jameson will stew on what we said and he'll come up with something else. I'm pretty confident we'll win this one, though. We can talk him out of anything else he comes up with."

After walking in silence for a few minutes, Tifa mused, "Denzel really clocked Jesse good, didn't he?"

"Yeah! I felt bad for him. Do you think we should offer to cure him?

Tifa snorted. "Heck, no! I want to make sure that kid learned his lesson." She looked sharply at Marlene. "Don't you dare tell Denzel I said that."

* * *


	4. Into the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the reviews! You guys are amazing!

**DAY 1**

Apparently, Cloud didn't believe darkness was a good enough reason to stop driving. Denzel couldn't see a thing besides the blur of unidentified shapes flying by. He wondered if the man always drove like such a maniac or if he was making a special effort to terrify him. Since he usually only rode along on Fenrir in town, he was completely unprepared for the reckless speed with which Cloud drove through the wilderness. When they finally skidded to a stop, Denzel let himself slide bonelessly to the rocky ground.

"Oh thank you, Gaia!" he cried dramatically. "I'm still alive! He tried to kill me but I survived!" Denzel raised his arms to the sky from his place on the ground.

"Uh, Denzel? Are you ok?" Cloud removed his goggles and the glow pierced the night.

"Whoa…" Denzel sat up slowly. "They actually _glow in the dark_!"

Of course he'd seen Cloud's eyes in dim lighting before and he knew they were bright, but this was different. Out here in the middle of nowhere, without even the ambient light of the city to offset them, he could see that they actually _emitted_ light, not just reflected it.

The glowing blue orbs narrowed. "Yeah. You gonna help me set up camp or are you having some kind of teenage episode?"

"Are you serious? I can't see a thing. How am I supposed to—?"

A lantern flickered to life in Cloud's hand. "Here, take this. Go get some firewood together from those trees over there. I'll take care of the tent."

Denzel got to his feet and took the lantern. "Uh, ok. Sure. I can do that."

Cloud held his wrist before he could walk away. "Don't be gone too long, and don't put down the lantern. There are drogs in those woods, but they'll leave you alone as long as you have a light source with you."

"Ok, ok, I got it." Denzel trudged off toward the trees, holding the lantern high in front of him. He glanced back over his shoulder. The light from Cloud's eyes was seriously creepy. Did he honestly think Denzel would believe they didn't get that way from mako? Since Cloud couldn't easily get away from him during their forced bonding time, this trip would be the perfect opportunity to confront him about it.

The woods were filled with dead, dry branches. There would be no problem finding enough wood for the fire. The problem, Denzel soon discovered, was that he could only carry so much wood without setting down the lantern. But he didn't have any desire to meet a drog in dark, so he gathered as much as he could carry with one arm and brought it back to the tent. Cloud had somehow found enough wood nearby to get the fire started himself, and the tent and sleeping bags were already set up at his back.

Denzel dropped the armful of wood to the ground with a loud clatter. Cloud looked at the small pile and then up at him. His expression was easy enough to decipher.

"I can only carry so much with one arm, you know!" Denzel defended.

Cloud sighed and rolled his head around on his neck. "It's fine. Just go to bed. It's late and we have a long way to drive tomorrow."

Denzel ignored his advice and sat down on the ground next to the fire. "So, Cloud."

Cloud looked up. His eyes weren't so obviously bright next to the fire, and the shadows flickering across his face made him look like a stranger. The dark outline of his spikes were familiar though, somehow always looking the same, despite the fact that the wind had been blowing his hair back all night. "What is it?"

"I was thinking about…I thought you said you never got any mako." He didn't mean for it to come out like an accusation, but even to his own ears it sounded like one.

Cloud's eyes shifted to the fire. "I never said that." He fed some sticks from Denzel's small pile to the fire. His voice was deadpan, completely unconcerned with defending himself from the teen's accusations.

Denzel tried again. "Yeah, you did! That day after I tried to split Tsurugi, you came to my room and you said—"

"I said I never made SOLDIER," Cloud said, sounding a bit more irritable. "Those are not the same thing."

"Oh…I didn't know there were other programs that gave mako shots." Denzel waited, but Cloud said nothing, just stared blankly into the fire. "So…how did you get the shots?"

Cloud's face showed a flicker of annoyance. "Denzel, it's late and I'm tired and it's really not a good time to go into this. Just go to bed. _Please_."

With a huff, Denzel got to his feet and stomped to the tent behind Cloud. Before he entered, he turned to look at his back. "You know what? You're nothing but a hypocrite. You tell me to always be honest with you. You think you have the right to know everything about my life, but you won't even answer a simple question about yours. And this is supposed to be our 'guy time'? What a joke. This sucks."

He could only see the silhouette of Cloud's back against the brightness of the fire. He lowered his head, but otherwise made no response to the accusations.

With a sigh of disgust, Denzel flung open the tent flap and went inside, pulling it closed behind him. He realized too late that he hadn't brought the lantern into the pitch black tent. Since he'd made such a dramatic exit, he didn't want to ruin it by going back out there to get it. He fumbled his way across the darkness and felt his way to a sleeping bag. It provided almost nonexistent padding against the rocky ground, and it was a long time before he was able to fall asleep. He never did hear Cloud come in.

* * *

**Day 2**

The morning dawned far too early for Denzel. He rolled over, hoping to see Cloud still asleep so he could catch a few more minutes, but the tent was empty. He snuggled back into his sleeping bag anyway.

"Don't even think about it, Denz. It's time to get up." Cloud's voice drifted from outside the tent.

Denzel groaned. "You know, your super hearing is really irritating sometimes."

"Yep. I know. So quit trying to burrow back down. We've gotta get moving."

Cloud sounded entirely too _awake_ for a short night spent sleeping on the hard ground, and it made Denzel even more irritable. He threw back his sleeping bag angrily and climbed out of the tent.

At some point Cloud had gathered a huge pile of wood and tied it into compact bundles. It made Denzel's little stack from the night before look pathetic. The morning air was chilly after his warm sleeping bag.

"Can we start a fire again?" Denzel asked. "It's freezing."

"Sure we can, after we get some breakfast."

"Great, I'm starving," Denzel said, absently rubbing his stomach. "What did Tifa pack for us?"

For some reason, Cloud found this extremely amusing. "Pack? Come on Denz, we're camping! We get our own food." Chuckling to himself, he headed off toward the woods.

_This has got to be a joke. He can't be serious. He didn't bring any food? Any second now, he'll turn around and tell me it's a joke. It's in one of Fenrir's compartments._ ' _Go get it, Denzel, we'll warm it up.'_

But Cloud still hadn't turned around by the time he disappeared into the trees. Denzel groaned and dragged his feet to the edge of the woods. He had to jog a bit to catch up, and the blanket of dead branches snapped loudly under his shoes. By the time he reached him, Denzel was still feeling rather irritable, and the incessant growling of his stomach and severe shortage of sleep wasn't helping his mood.

"How are we even supposed to find anything out here?" he complained, kicking aside a clump of leaves. "You really didn't plan this very well, Cloud."

Cloud turned around with a snarl. "Could you just…" He made a visible effort to calm himself. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, if not more patient. "Can you please just stand in one place and be quiet for a few minutes? We're never going to catch anything if the entire forest hears us stomping through."

Denzel huffed and sat down on a stump. "Fine. Whatever." He found a stick and poked aimlessly at the tree.

Cloud walked away, somehow managing to avoid all of the noisy twigs that covered the forest floor. Denzel rested his chin against his hand and immersed himself in a fantasy about a big, fluffy stack of Tifa's pancakes; pancakes being served by Alicia.

" _I made your favorite, Denzel." Her hair flowed loosely around her face and tickled his jaw as she leaned over him, setting the steaming plate on the table. She stood there for a moment longer than necessary as he breathed in her strawberry shampoo._

_His eyes followed her as she walked around to the other side of the table. She was wearing black knee-high tights with a blue skirt that swayed above her knees and a thin, clingy sweater. She smiled, flashing that adorable dimple that he always found so mesmerizing. "Someday I'll make these for you and bring them to you in bed."_

_Denzel forgot about his breakfast. "In...bed?"_

" _Mm-hmm," Alicia purred. "You know, I've always liked you, Denzel. And then I saw you out there fighting to save the town from those monsters. You were so brave and strong and—"_

A shrill screech tore through his fantasy. Denzel sat there, frozen, waiting to see if all hell was about to break loose. The snap of twigs alerted him to something approaching – something big and heavy. He jumped to his feet, painfully aware that he had no weapons or materia. The cracking of wood grew louder. His mind raced in circles. His heart hammered against his chest. _Run or fight? Run or fight?_

It was too late. The next crack was right behind him. He spun around with his fist swinging. It was met with something hard and unyielding.

"Is…everything ok?" Cloud asked cautiously. He had blocked Denzel's fist with the palm of his hand. In his other hand, a limp animal corpse dangled.

The realizations tumbled over Denzel. Cloud had been hunting for their food. The animal screeched when he killed it. Cloud wasn't bothering to tiptoe over the branches anymore because he had no more need to sneak. And Denzel's hand _really_ hurt.

Flustered and embarrassed, Denzel focused his attention on the furry bundle in Cloud's hand. He made a horrified face. He knew where meat came from, but he wasn't used to seeing it so close to the living side. " _That's_ what we're eating?"

Cloud frowned. "Yeah. My mom used to make this all the time back home. It's pretty good."

"If you say so," Denzel muttered. He perked up as he spotted something bright blue through the trees. "Score! I found my _own_ breakfast!" He trotted over to the bush and pulled off a couple of juicy-looking fruits. They were so big that he could only fit a few in his hand. He was just about to take a taste of one when it was knocked away from him.

"Hey!" Denzel snapped. "What's your problem?"

He was dragged away from the delicious-looking bush unceremoniously by his arm.

"Trust me," Cloud said. "You do not want those for breakfast, city boy."

Denzel jerked his arm away. "Alright, fine. You don't have to be such a jerk about it." He stormed off ahead, only to be called back a few seconds later.

"Camp is this way, Denz."

Denzel scowled. "I know. I need to take a leak. I'll catch up with you at camp." It wasn't true, but he wanted an excuse to get away from Cloud for a while. He was really starting to get on his nerves.

When he rejoined him at camp a few minutes later, Cloud had already gotten the fire started and the animal stripped, and was roasting the meat on a stick. Denzel couldn't help being a little impressed - Cloud was really good at this kind of thing. He wasn't about to say it, though. He was still stinging from the snide comments in the woods.

By the time they packed up and hit the road, the morning sun was baking the dry ground into flakes. Fenrir sprayed the air behind them with rocks and dust. Denzel was a little better prepared for the terrifying speed this time, so he grabbed on tight and kept his eyes open a bit more. It helped that the road was flatter and more open, so at least he wasn't worried about being impaled by a tree branch. He was actually starting to enjoy the feel of the wind against his skin and the sun at his back.

Around mid-day, they skidded to a stop near a peaceful-looking body of water. Denzel hopped off the bike and stretched. His legs were sore from hours in that position. _How does Cloud do this all day long?_

Cloud was digging in the storage compartments of the bike, so Denzel wandered over to the water, peeled off his shoes and socks, and dangled his toes off the edge of the bank. The water felt soothing on his hot feet. He was parched, and the water looked clean, so he cupped his hands together and scooped up some water, lifting it to his mouth.

" _Denzel!_ What are you _doing_?"

Denzel let the water trickle between his fingers. "Uh…getting a drink?"

Cloud's voice was scathing. "Come on, man! You can't just drink water from _anywhere_!"

The teen's ears turned red. He wiped his damp hands on his shirt. "Well how am I supposed to know? _You_ never taught me! It's not like I had to worry about where my water came from on the plate. Jeez, you're such a jerk sometimes!" Denzel crossed his arms and stared stonily over the water.

After a moment, Cloud came to sit next to him on the bank, crossing his legs in front of him. Before he said a word, Denzel's mouth was off and running again. "This has got to be the worst punishment you could have come up with. I mean, did you literally just decide last night that I should spend my entire school break being dragged along to some delivery in the middle of nowhere?"

Startled by the sudden attack, Cloud just stared at him.

"I know I messed up, ok? I know I shouldn't have brought the materia to school to show off, and I shouldn't have lost my temper with Jesse. Yeah, it was stupid, and I'm sorry I did it, but it's totally not fair to make me do this!"

If he had cared enough to look, it would have been easy for Denzel to see the tension in Cloud's shoulders that should have been a warning. But wrapped up as he was in his own frustration and anger, he was completely oblivious.

"I mean, I'm doing _nothing_ except riding on the back of a bike all day and sleeping on the ground at night! _Chores_ are an acceptable punishment, but I might just die of boredom from this trip!"

The next second, Cloud was on his feet, glaring down at the boy, eyes flashing dangerously. His hands were curled into fists at his sides. If he didn't know him, Denzel would have been terrified. "You really don't get it, do you, Denzel? What you did was _beyond_ reckless and irresponsible. You attacked two unarmed civilians – kids, even! – using something that is misunderstood and feared by most of the Planet! And you did it in the middle of all this drama with the monsters attacking the town and everyone on edge and looking for someone to blame. And now you're…"

He stopped and drove his fingers into his own hair, making them into fists and tugging harshly at the strands. As always, pain brought him back down, helped him focus. His arms dropped back to his sides.

"Stay here," he ordered roughly. "I need to go do something."

Cloud stormed off, pausing only to snatch First Tsurugi from Fenrir, assembling the sword in one smooth motion.

Denzel scoffed as he watched him walk away. He knew what Cloud "needed" to do. Honestly, he wished he had the same option, and the feeling was strange to him. He'd never been prone to violence before; not to some random monsters that meant him no harm. But the feeling he got when his sword sliced through sinew and muscle was powerful, nearly euphoric. It was so unfair that Cloud had an outlet for his anger, but Denzel could only sit there and stew.

He wished Marlene were there. He wanted to rant and complain, and she would understand. She knew how infuriating Cloud could be.

A slight breeze ruffled his hair, and movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention: Cloud's phone, clipped to Fenrir as it always was when he was on the road. He _could_ complain to Marlene.

He got up and snatched the phone, dialing the number he knew by heart. " _Seventh Heaven,"_ the familiar voice transmitted through the speaker.

"Marlene! Hey, it's Denzel." He was relieved that she had picked up the phone, because he wasn't sure he could have hidden his frustration from Tifa if she had answered.

" _Hey Denz! How's the camping trip?_ " she asked cheerfully.

"It sucks," Denzel growled. "Cloud is being a total pain, and I'm stuck with him for like four more days! I swear he's trying to make me as miserable as possible to punish me for what I did to Jesse. This is so unfair, Mar! I don't know if I can take any more of this. I mean, you know how Cloud is! When he gets all mad and his eyes get all bright and he talks in that low voice and you _know_ that you might as well give in because you just. can't. _win_."

He expected Marlene to agree. He thought she would sympathize and cluck her tongue and commend him for putting up with Cloud as much as he did. He did not expect dead silence from the other end of the phone.

"Marlene? Are you still there?"

He heard a soft exhale in response. " _Denzel, if I tell you something, you have to promise not to say anything to Cloud or Tifa_."

"Of course, Mar. You know I never do. What is it?"

" _Well, I overheard them talking after they grounded you the other night_."

Denzel snorted. It was uncanny the amount of things that girl _overheard_. "Yeah? What about it?

" _They sounded scared, Denz. They were afraid that Jameson would do something really bad to you. Tifa convinced Cloud to go on this trip and take you along so she could do some damage control. They're trying to protect you, Denzel, and honestly, you sound like an ungrateful little brat right now_."

Marlene never was the kind to beat around the bush, and it really sounded like Denzel needed to be smacked in the face with the truth. She waited for his indignant response, expecting that she might need to beat him around the head with it a few more times, but there was nothing. Or at least, no words. She heard an unfamiliar sound, almost like something tearing, followed by some gasping breaths and weak coughing. Then there was some rustling and fumbling, and the unmistakable thump of the phone hitting the ground.

* * *

Cloud pulled his sword from the flan with a loud squelching sound as it slumped into a shapeless puddle. He rarely attacked flans with his weapon because it was extremely inefficient, but materia wouldn't do anything to work off his frustration, and the resistant, rubbery texture of the flan was just what he needed.

A familiar voice floated to his ears with the wind. He tilted his head to listen.

" _Cloud! CLOUD!"_

_Marlene? Why did that sound like Marlene?_ His eyes widened. _Denzel!_

He took off at a sprint, running as fast as he could to the place he'd left Denzel. He didn't allow himself to think or imagine or speculate. He just ran, the boy's name playing on repeat in his mind.

His feet skidded as he turned sharply around the tight corner of the bluff blocking his view of the camp site.

A pain flashed through his core, white hot at the familiar scene before him. Denzel was slumped forward on the ground, impaled on the spiky arm of a capparwire that had driven through him from behind.

"NO!" Cloud wasn't even aware he had screamed.

His sword sliced straight through the center of the capparwire. The top half slid to the ground. _No no no no no not again please not again…_ He dropped the sword and knelt behind Denzel's limp form, bracing his shoulders with one arm. With the other, he grasped the spiky stump of the capparwire, pulling it out of his back as carefully as he could.

The blood flowed freely from his wound once the arm was removed, which brought immeasurable relief. It meant that his heart was still pumping. The barbed arm hadn't pierced it. He could still save him. Cloud leaned him back against his chest, already calling out to the lifestream for healing. He wrapped his arms around Denzel's shoulders from behind and held him tightly as his body twitched.

"I've got you buddy. It's ok. I've got you." He held him and spoke softly into his ear, knowing how much it hurt while his internal injuries were being healed, sewn together from the inside out.

Finally, the twitching stopped. Denzel opened his eyes and groaned.

"Cloud?"

"Yeah. I'm right here. You're ok. I'm here."

"Mmm." His eyes slipped closed again. "Safe…" he mumbled.

There was nothing Denzel could have said to tear Cloud apart more than that one word. He bowed his head, guilt and shame washing over him.

" _Cloud? Are you there? Cloud!_ "

Cloud startled, scanning for the source of Tifa's voice. He spotted his phone lying on the ground a few feet away, the light indicating the open connection. He leaned toward it carefully, trying to reach it without jostling Denzel.

"I'm here," Cloud said wearily into the phone.

Tifa's voice was tense. " _What just happened? Marlene was yelling your name into the phone and we heard all this commotion but no one would answer us. Is everything ok?_ "

Cloud closed his eyes. "Yes. No. Well, it will be."

" _Cloud_ ," she said sternly. " _Explain yourself_."

"I left him alone, Teef. I left him alone in the middle of the wilderness with no weapon. And he got attacked."

" _You left him_ alone _?_ _Cloud, what were you thinking? He's just a kid!"_

"I know," he groaned. "I don't know. We were arguing and I got so mad and I just…"

" _You went off to deal with it alone."_

He sighed. "Yeah."

" _Why is it so hard for you to just_ talk _to people when you're upset? You can't just keep…"_

"I _know_ , Tifa. Not right now. Please. I…I need to get the tent set up so Denzel has someplace to sleep. I'll call you later tonight, ok?"

" _Okay_." Tifa sounded resigned. " _Be safe…_ "

* * *

Denzel opened his eyes to dark canvas and sweat. The sun struggled through the navy tent, heating the interior to a roast. Cloud had apparently removed his socks and shoes and shirt, so he wasn't as hot as he could have been. He was also not covered in blood.

He remembered flashes of how he'd gotten here, but the phone call was crystal clear in his memory. His face burned as he remembered Marlene's words. _Ungrateful brat…_ Yeah, he should apologize, but how was he supposed to do that without admitting that he knew why they were out there?

He pushed his sweaty bangs back from his face and crawled out of the tent. The sun had moved across the sky, marking a few hours that had passed while he slept. Cloud was by the water where they'd had their argument, sitting perfectly still and staring at nothing. Denzel walked up slowly and sat down next to him.

Cloud didn't give any indication that he was aware of the boy sitting there, but he was the one to break the silence first. "I know this trip hasn't been that great for you—"

"No," Denzel interrupted. "It's not your fault. It's my attitude. I've been so moody and angry lately and…I don't know why."

The corner of Cloud's lip quirked with the hint of a smile. "Hormonal teenager?"

A slight smile cracked Denzel's face, too. "Can I use that as an excuse?"

"For the next 5 years, at least," Cloud said.

Denzel laughed. "Let's go with that, then. I'll try not to abuse it."

The smile melted from Cloud's face as he finally looked over at him. "You were right though. I shouldn't just expect you to know these things. I guess I take them for granted, but had to learn them once, too. I'll teach you, ok?"

"Cool," Denzel grinned. "You mean like right now?"

"Um, maybe not right now. There's plenty of daylight left. We should put on a few more miles before we stop for the night."

"Ok," Denzel shrugged. "I'm really hot, though. Can I take a quick swim before we go?"

"Please do," Cloud agreed, getting to his feet. "I don't think I could stand your smell much longer."

With a mischievous smile, Denzel asked innocently, "Are you sure I can swim in just _any_ water?"

Cloud stood close behind him, his boot right behind Denzel's butt. "Yeah, smart aleck. Just don't drink it."

Before Denzel knew what was happening, Cloud slid his boot under him and lifted his foot, sending Denzel flying into the pond face-first.

He came up sputtering and spitting. "Hey!" But he really couldn't stay mad, especially hearing the rare sound of Cloud's laughter.

"I'm gonna pack up the tent. You've got 10 minutes."

* * *

They stopped earlier than usual that evening. They had completely forgotten lunch in all the excitement that afternoon, and they were both starving by the time they stopped by a large forest. The wind had picked up a bit, but they had some protection next to the trees.

Cloud pulled off his goggles as he stepped off the bike and nudged down the stand with his foot. "Hey, I have something for you," he said, digging in one of the compartments. He pulled out the sword he had confiscated from Denzel before they left home.

"You're letting me have it back?" Denzel asked.

"Just for the trip," Cloud warned as he handed it over. "There aren't any people around and…well, this is as good a chance as any for you to get some practical experience. I should have given it to you earlier, anyway. The monsters are going to get thicker the farther we get from civilization." He popped a couple pieces of materia from his own bracer and handed them to Denzel as well. "You can equip some of my materia, too. Sorry, I didn't think about bringing yours along."

Denzel grinned as he put the restore and ice materia into his bracer. "No fire?" he asked.

"I just have the one fire, and I'm just going to keep it in the top compartment in Fenrir because we'll be using it often when we camp. You should put this on, too." He pulled out a white cape, the only accessory he'd left in there from a previous trip, and tied it on Denzel. "It will protect you from small and toad effects. Those attacks get pretty common in the woods."

"Cool!" Denzel said. "I can't wait to run into some monsters!" His stomach protested loudly. "Well, ok, I can wait until we eat," he amended, sliding his sword into the sheath. "How long is it going to take?"

"About 5 minutes," Cloud said. "Think you can last that long?" He was digging through one of the bags stowed on the bike.

"Really? Don't we have to catch it?"

"Not this time." He pulled out some bread and cheese from the bag, along with their water canteen and some dried meat.

"Ah ha!" Denzel yelled, perking up. "I knew Tifa wouldn't send us with no food."

Cloud smirked. "Yeah, well. Just a little. Not enough to get us through the week. And the meat is just what's left from this morning."

Denzel grabbed greedily at the food and shoved it in his mouth. "Ohhhh, man. I never realized how good bread tasted." He bit off a piece of the dried meat. "Even this stuff is good now."

"Hey now," Cloud protested mildly. "You really shouldn't be insulting the cook unless you want to starve."

Denzel grinned and ripped off another big chunk.

After he had satisfied the beast in his stomach, Denzel stretched out on the rocky ground. "Mmm. Ok, now I'm ready for bed."

Cloud was already digging in the bags again. "Are you kidding? The sun hasn't even set!"

Grudgingly, Denzel sat up. "Well what else are we gonna do?"

"We're going to set some traps so we have food for breakfast. Come on, I'll show you."

The wind was cold, so they both grabbed another layer of clothes before setting off into the woods. Cloud showed him how to make several different types of traps and explained how they worked. His fingers nimbly wrapped and stretched and tied like he had done it a thousand times before. He even let Denzel make a few.

"So how _did_ you learn all this stuff?" Denzel finally asked.

"Put that cheese right in the middle," Cloud instructed Denzel before responding. "Well, Nibelheim is just a little mountain village. We didn't have markets or stores like Midgar. There was a supply truck that came about once a month, but it was just some extra stuff we couldn't find locally, and Ma couldn't afford much of what they brought anyway. So, this is what we had to do to survive."

Denzel gaped at him. "You had to do this _every_ _day_?"

Cloud shrugged. "Not exactly. If I got enough to last us a while, I might spend a few days helping with canning or drying it. We had to stock up what we could during the summer because it got a lot harder when winter came. We never seemed to have quite enough to make it through the whole season, though. Part of the reason I was so scrawny."

He stood up and dusted off his hands. "Alright, let's leave these for tonight. We'll check them in the morning."

When they arrived back at the camp site, Cloud sent Denzel back into the woods to gather some firewood. "Take the lantern though. It will be dark soon. Fire materia is in the middle slot."

As Cloud set to work getting the tent up, Denzel grabbed the lantern and materia from their supplies. He palmed it and lit the wick, but the flame flickered violently in the cold wind. He shoved the materia in his pocket, just in case he needed to relight it.

He was learning how to carry the wood a little more efficiently. The problem was actually trying not to drop the wood he held while picking up more with the same arm. By dropping the sticks into a small pile instead of continuing to carry them as he gathered, he kept his arm free until he had a decent amount gathered. Then he scooped up the pile and carried them all back.

When he returned to the campground with his bundle of wood, he noted again that Cloud had already set up the tent and started a small fire. In his hands, he held the shirt Denzel had been wearing that day, which had slashes across both the front and back. He was sewing one of the slashes with tiny, even stitches. The thread was black, matching Cloud's ribbed shirt, which explained why he never noticed all the repairs that must be covering his clothes. Unfortunately, Denzel's shirt was a light brown. The black threads looked like a cancer stretching across his shirt.

Cloud stuck the end of the needle between his lips as he snapped the thread and tied off the end.

"How did you get so good at that?" Denzel asked. His voice was teasing, but he really was impressed by the precision of the thread around the ragged tear.

Cloud took the needle out of his mouth and weaved it through a hardened cloth that he pulled from his pack. "I'm a man of many talents, young one," he said cryptically.

Denzel dropped the wood next to him, and this time Cloud nodded with approval. Feeling pretty proud of himself, Denzel sat down by the fire, opposite Cloud.

"Did you know you can sew together skin if someone has an open wound and you don't have a way to heal them quickly?" Cloud asked conversationally. He tossed the repaired shirt over the fire to the teen.

"Ha!" Denzel snorted and caught the shirt, but Cloud wasn't laughing. "What, are you serious? You stab a wound a bunch of times with a needle and that makes it _better_?"

This time Cloud did laugh. "Well, no, the needle doesn't feel good at _all_. But the thread will pull together the two sides of the wound and eventually the body will heal itself. It works the same way as a cure spell, only much, much, _much_ slower.

Denzel made a face. "Why would you ever want to do that?"

"I don't," Cloud declared. "That's why I learned how to use materia. But when I was a kid, no one in the village knew how to use it, and potions were really hard to come by. So we sewed up skin and used sticks to hold bones in place, and waited for our body to heal itself."

Denzel tried to imagine it as he shifted his position to get comfortable on the rocky ground. The materia in his pocket dug into his thigh, which was distinctly _less_ comfortable. He stood up to remove it and a thought struck him. "Hey Cloud? How did you start this fire?"

Cloud looked up at him. "We brought fire materia," he said calmly.

Denzel pulled the stone from his pocket. "You mean this?"

Cloud looked startled. "Oh. Uh.." he fumbled. "Why did you take that? I needed it." Anger seeped into his voice.

Denzel glared at him and crossed his arms. "Clearly you _didn't_. I had it with me in case I needed to relight the lantern. Now stop trying to change the subject. _How did you light the fire_?"

"I...umm…" Cloud's eyes skittered around wildly, trying to come up with a plausible explanation, but finally he sighed in defeat. "Like this." He held out his hands, palms up. Two tiny fireballs appeared, growing in size until he made his hands into fists, cutting off the flames.

Denzel gasped. "Whoa! You've _gotta_ teach me how to do that!"

Cloud rubbed his face wearily. "I can't. You remember that day I swallowed the materia?"

"Of course." _How could I forget?_

"Well, it's still inside of me and…I can use it."

* * *

**Day 3**

The new day dawned bright and crisp. Denzel had been too excited to get much sleep the night before, thinking of all the possibilities. It was so cool! He'd felt horribly guilty over Cloud swallowing the materia, but it seemed like this was actually turning out to be good thing. It was a tremendous weight off his shoulders.

He had begged Cloud to show him everything he'd learned to do, but Cloud had said he was tired. He promised to show him another time, though. Now that Denzel thought about it, Cloud _did_ look pretty tired lately.

As he rolled up his sleeping bag and pulled on another layer against the cold air, Cloud poked his head into the tent. "Hey, you ready? Let's go check the traps."

Denzel grinned and followed him out. He was excited to see how the traps had worked. The first one they checked was one that Denzel had made. He could tell because it was a little sloppy, whereas Cloud's traps were very precisely laid out. He peered inside, disappointed to find that it looked exactly the same as the night before.

"Don't worry about it," Cloud said as they dismantled the trap. "That's why we did so many. If they all caught something, we would have way too much food."

They moved on to the next traps. By the time they reached the fourth, they had found their breakfast. Denzel was ecstatic. It was one of his traps, and it had worked exactly the way it was supposed to. The animal was a large one, much larger than the two of them could eat at once.

"What are we going to do with all this meat?" Denzel asked, bouncing excitedly.

"We're heading into the mountains today. It'll be cold up there. We'll dry some, and the rest we can take with us and it will freeze."

They went through the rest of their traps, finding one more with something small caught in it. It was cute, and Denzel couldn't help feeling a little guilty, but Cloud just shrugged. He didn't have much time to dwell on his guilt, though. As they walked back to the camp site, Cloud pointed out various plants and bushes along the way. He knew the names of all of them. He knew which ones they could eat, which ones tasted like marlboro vomit, and which ones would have them stopping every hour on the road.

"I don't get it," Denzel said, picking off one of the leaves. "Why would we have to stop?"

Cloud raised an eyebrow as he looked over at the boy. "Trust me, you don't want to find out. It's really uncomfortable."

When they got back to the camp, Cloud pulled a knife out of his boot and showed him how to skin and clean it. Then he handed the knife to the teen. Denzel was slow and imprecise, probably cutting off much more of the meat than he should have, but Cloud didn't seem to mind. He sat on a stump and leaned back against another tree, linking his hands behind his head for a pillow. He supervised Denzel's clumsy maneuvering and told him stories about growing up in the mountains.

By the time Denzel's fingers were too numb to hold the knife, he was laughing so hard that his eyes were watering. "Your mom actually spanked you with the cutting board right in the middle of town? With everybody watching? Gaia, that would be so embarrassing!"

"Mm," Cloud agreed. "Ma Strife was not a woman to be trifled with. Tiny, petite little woman, and all the men in town were terrified of her."

Denzel wiped at his streaming eyes with his sleeve. "Here, you want to finish this? It's going to take me all day." He handed the knife to Cloud, who shrugged. Denzel tucked his freezing fingers inside his sleeves. "What about your dad? Was he scared of her too?"

"I dunno. I never knew him," he said as he efficiently continued skinning.

Cloud didn't seem perturbed, but Denzel looked down at his feet. He knew what it was like to lose a father. It was an ache that had dulled over time, but never really left him. But what if he'd never had one at all? And what if he'd never found Cloud? Where would he have been now without him? _Who_ would he have been now?

Cloud glanced up at him. "What's up?"

"What?" Denzel blinked.

"You just got really quiet."

Denzel shook his head. "Oh. Just spaced out, I guess. Tell me more about your mom. Was she really tough on you?"

Cloud had finished skinning and began cutting the meat off the bone. "Sometimes. If I didn't do my chores or got in a fight with the other kids, I knew I was in for it. If I knew I'd really screwed up, I snuck up the mountain trail to this little hideout I'd made for myself. I stayed up there as long as I could, hoping she would forget about it or at least calm down a little bit. But eventually I would get too hungry and go home.

"She would just be calmly going about her chores until I walked in the door. It was like she had just tucked away all her anger in this little pocket while she was waiting. As soon as I got home, she pulled it out, and then I was in even deeper trouble for making her worry. Those are the days I _wished_ for the cutting board."

Denzel grinned. "Tough as leather, then?"

"Yeah," Cloud agreed. "But leather can be soft, too, you know." He smiled faintly. "At night, we would light the fire and curl up in our blankets. The whole house was just one big room, so we usually slept right in front of the hearth when the nights were cold. When the wind whistled through the gaps in the stone walls, it made this horrible moaning sound. I was so terrified of that sound when I was a kid. She would pull the blanket around both of us and wrap her arms around me, and tell me these stories about brave warriors and battling gods until I fell asleep." He smiled fondly. "Fenrir was always my favorite. I used to beg her to tell me that one all the time."

"What a surprise," Denzel said dryly.

"She got a lot of ridicule as a single mother, and I think in her heart she was afraid that I wouldn't turn out right without a dad to raise me, like I wouldn't be strong enough. I think that's why she was so tough on me. But she never expected me to run off and join the army so young."

Denzel felt the weight of the sadness behind his words. "You were…my age when you left home, weren't you?"

"Yeah." Cloud set down the knife and locked eyes with Denzel. "Don't be in too much of a hurry to grow up, alright? Just enjoy it while you can."

His eyes were intense, and Denzel had a strong urge to reassure him. "Yeah, I will, Cloud. I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Cloud studied his face for another minute, and then seemed to shake himself. "Come on. Let's eat our breakfast and hit the road. We should be able to deliver the package and get back to this same place by tonight."

* * *

The temperature was dropping quickly as the afternoon wore on, and Denzel was really getting cold. They were driving up a steep mountain path that was barely big enough for the bike, and ran precariously close to the ledge. Cloud had actually slowed down, which made Denzel more worried than anything.

"Hey, Cloud!" he yelled over the howling wind. "Can we stop somewhere and thaw out or something? Maybe start a fire? Warm up our toes?"

Cloud turned his head so Denzel could hear him over his shoulder. "Not right now," he yelled. "If we stop, we might not be able to get started again. We need to find someplace flat that's not coated in ice."

Denzel sighed and wiggled his numb fingers. He didn't have much hope of that happening anytime soon, but suddenly Cloud slammed on the brakes. The bike started skidding sideways on the slick ice. He shot out a stream of fire at the ground in the direction they were sliding, melting the ice and halting their momentum at the same time. They stopped mere inches from the edge.

"Get off!" Cloud yelled. They both jumped off onto the safety of the ledge and Cloud pulled the bike toward them, dropping it on its side and pulling out his sword at the same time. Denzel winced at the sound as the motorcycle crashed on the rocky ground. Cloud wouldn't be happy about that later, but at the moment they had a more pressing concern.

A giant, green, tentacled monster, previously hidden around the curve of the mountain, was blocking the path. Denzel covered his mouth and nose with his free hand as they backed up. "Oh my gods, that thing _smells_! What is it?"

Cloud made a face and split his sword into two. "Marlboro."

"Ugh! That thing is foul!"

"Yeah, and its bad breath will mess you up, so back up and let me—"

Cloud didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before the marlboro unleashed a nasty belch. He groaned as the stench washed over them. The ribbon on his arm tingled, and he quickly scrambled back to see what the damage to Denzel was. The boy was fast asleep on the path. That was a relief. Cloud charged the marlboro, but instead of attacking, he ducked and skidded past it. He leapt back onto his feet on the other side and slashed it across the back. The marlboro roared and turned to face him. He kept backing up, drawing it away from Denzel. As long as it didn't hit him, Denzel could stay asleep until Cloud could get rid of the thing and find a remedy.

Cloud slashed him a few more times, but he knew it would be much quicker to exploit its weakness, and the clock was ticking with Denzel still asleep. He cast a powerful water spell several times in succession and the giant plant-beast toppled forward, crashing to the ground. After stowing his sword in the harness, Cloud put one foot against the marlboro and shoved it toward the edge of the cliff. Its teeth scraped harshly against the frozen ground. The sound was almost as grating as the odor. Finally, he pushed it over the edge and watched it bounce all the way down the side of the mountain with a series of soft splats.

Able to breathe once again, he pulled a remedy from his supplies and returned to Denzel. He poured it on the boy's head. Denzel sat up with a jerk, then grabbed his head between both hands with a groan. "Augghh. What happened?"

Cloud gave him a moment to recover. "It's probably from the poison. Your head will feel better in a second. Just be glad you had that white cape on. Toad feels even worse."

Denzel blinked and gingerly pulled his hands away from his head. The pain was gone. He took Cloud's outstretched hand and got to his feet. "So how come it doesn't affect you?"

Cloud showed him the ribbon on his arm.

"What does that protect you from?" Denzel asked, poking at the ribbon.

"Everything."

Denzel's eyes widened. "Cool! Wanna trade?"

With an apologetic smile, Cloud shook his head. "If something incapacitates me, you'll be on your own. And if I get confused and hit you…"

"Oh. Right. Good call." Denzel's shoulders dropped.

"Sorry, Denz. I'd get one for you too if I could find one, but they're really rare. How about this? When we get back home, you can dig through all my accessories and see if there's something you like better."

They both made their way back to Fenrir. As predicted, Cloud grimaced as he picked up the motorcycle and examined the scratches on the paint. "Guess we'll have to wait until we get back to fix that." He sighed. "Well, we're stopped now, and if we head back down the path just a bit, we'll be on the lee side of the mountain. We can make a fire and quickly eat, but it's going to be cold either way."

He glanced at the steep slope that was their path ahead. If it hadn't already been icy, it definitely was now. The water that had splashed off of the marlboro from his spell had landed on the ground and was already freezing. "Any ideas how to get up to the top of that? The tires will just spin on the ice."

Denzel looked at him like he was incredibly thick. "Cloud…you can shoot fire from your hands. Just melt it."

"Oh yeah! Good thinking," Cloud laughed. "We'll try that after we take a break and eat."

They puttered Fenrir slowly down the trail until they reached a shallow indentation cut into the side of the mountain. At least it gave them some shelter from the biting wind. Cloud unpacked one of the bundles of wood he had brought with from the forest. This time he explained how and why he was arranging the wood before shooting a steady stream of fire from his hands.

Denzel basked in the welcome heat of the fire for a moment, stepping away reluctantly for just long enough to pull out a few more layers of clothes from his luggage. He pulled them on as Cloud unpacked the food. The meat was frozen as he'd said it would be, and it was now in one solid chunk.

"Great," Denzel sighed. "How long is it going to take to thaw that thing enough so we can even cut it?"

Cloud didn't respond, but pulled his knife out of his boot and flipped it open. He grasped the blade with one hand, concentrating intently.

"What are you—" Denzel started. "Ohhh," he said in awe as the blade glowed a hot orange-red.

Cloud used the knife to cut through the frozen meat, keeping two fingers on the top of the blade to keep it hot while he cut through it.

"That's so freaking cool!" Denzel exclaimed. "Can you cook the meat, too?"

"I don't know," Cloud said, grinning at the boy's enthusiasm. "I've never tried."

They were huddled in the little indentation in the cliff, and Cloud held the meat between his hands and focused. Denzel plopped down on the ground next to him to wait. It was taking a long time, and the cold ground was making his butt numb faster than the fire was warming him. He looked over at Cloud, noticing that he was not actually sitting on the ground, but squatting on the balls of his feet. Denzel copied his posture, immediately feeling warmer. It was an uncomfortable position though, and he wasn't keen on staying like that for long.

Five minutes later, he stood and stretched his legs. "Jeez, how can you stay like that for so long?"

Cloud didn't look away from the still-red meat. "Do some squats."

"What?" Denzel stared at him. "You mean like, right now?"

"Yeah," Cloud said. "It will warm you up."

So Denzel did squats. They did warm him up, but after a few minutes, his leg muscles burned and he let himself collapse onto the cold ground.

Glancing over at him, Cloud pulled off his outer coat and dropped it on the ground next to him. "Sit on that."

Gratefully, Denzel pulled the thick material over and slid it under his butt. Using the fire materia must have been really been making Cloud hot. His skin was a rosy pink, and beads of sweat were starting to appear on his forehead. Next to the fog of his breath, evidence of the freezing air, it was jarring.

Finally, the meat was nicely browned. Cloud cut it into two huge chunks and handed one to Denzel before dropping down next to him on the coat. "Hey, I think it actually cooks more evenly like this than over the fire." Cloud said, tearing into his chunk. "Great idea, Denz."

Denzel studied him worriedly. "Yeah, but I think we should just use the fire from now on. You look pretty worn out."

Cloud shrugged. "I'll be fine. Let's just eat and get going."

Denzel had an uneasy feeling, but he brushed it aside. He figured Cloud knew his own limitations.

He really should have listened to his instincts.


	5. The Cabin

It was mid-afternoon by the time they had plowed Fenrir through the deep snowbanks leading to the secluded cabin. It was slow going, but Cloud helped it along by melting a path in front of them. By the time they climbed off the bike, Denzel's legs felt frozen and they resisted orders from his brain.

Cloud tucked the package under his arm and pounded on the rough wooden door. There was no sign of life from inside. Denzel shifted between his feet, trying to restore life to them. Finally, the door creaked open. An old man with a stooped back peered out from the darkness inside. He looked too fragile to be living out here on his own, but his voice was strong.

"Oh my, is that the package from Abe Jenkins?" His eyes lit up, taking years off of his craggy face. "I didn't think anyone would actually be crazy enough to deliver it all the way out here!"

Cloud smirked. "Just crazy enough. Sign here, please." He handed the old man the clipboard.

The old man took it and stepped back, opening the door wider. "What's your hurry? You've come all this way, you might as well have some coffee, thaw yourselves out a bit!"

Cloud glanced over at Denzel, who gave him a pleading look as he tried to move his numb fingers. He'd spent most of his life in Midgar, where the winters were mild and rarely saw snow. This foray into the mountains was way out of his comfort zone. Cloud looked back at the man and shrugged. "Ok. Thanks."

They crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them. The cabin was gloriously warm. They were standing in the Great Room, which had a roaring fireplace pumping out heat. Worn but comfortable-looking furniture was arranged in a semi-circle around the big fireplace, and a bookcase with more books than he had seen in his entire life covered almost a full wall.

The two men had already walked through the opening leading into the kitchen, so Denzel reluctantly left the fireplace behind. The old man was digging through cupboards with surprising agility.

"I see you brought your kid along. Good idea to have a partner when you're way out in the boonies like this. Sit down, sit down." The old man waved distractedly at the scrubbed wooden table. "My name's Webster, but you can call me Web. What do you call yourselves?"

Cloud pulled out a sturdy wooden chair and sat at the table. "I'm Cloud, and this is Denzel."

Denzel watched the old man zipping around his little kitchen, starting a fresh pot of coffee.

"Do you live out here by yourself?" Cloud asked, looking around the tidy kitchen.

"Not exactly," Web answered with a gap-toothed grin. He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. A few moments later, a mass of snow charged into the kitchen. The two guests stared. The snow pile suddenly shook violently, sending the snow flying everywhere and revealing a large, shaggy dog. "This is my Belinda," Web said fondly, ignoring the cold slush that now covered half of the kitchen and its occupants.

Denzel brushed off the wet globs from his face and glanced at Cloud. Something was really off about him. The slush slid down Cloud's face, unnoticed, as he slumped in the chair and stared at nothing.

"Hey, Cloud. Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Cloud sat up straight and wiped at his face, but it appeared to take some effort.

Web was studying him now. "The boy has a point. You really don't look well. Why don't you two stay with me for the night?"

Cloud tried to protest. "No, we really need to get back—"

It was a half-hearted attempt at an argument, and Web wouldn't hear of it. "Don't be silly. You don't even look like you can make it back down the mountain, son. I have an extra bedroom that you boys can use. You can sleep someplace warm, get a hot meal, and tackle the mountain in the morning. I insist."

Cloud shrugged weakly. "Ok. Thanks."

Denzel took that as a sign that Cloud was feeling worse than he was letting on, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about staying a little longer in the warmth of the cabin. Still, he kept one eye on Cloud for the remainder of the night. He only remembered Cloud looking this weak once before — the day he swallowed the materia.

* * *

Web fed them a hearty stew that was heavenly in comparison to the food they'd been eating on the road. With a contented belly, Denzel sprawled on one of the cushy chairs in front of the fireplace and looked around the cabin. The floors and walls were made entirely of wood, but they were well sealed to keep out the bitter winds. Wooden beams braced the ceilings, and a wooden ladder led up to a space under the eaves. It was like living in a tree house.

Denzel had brought in their things from Fenrir without even asking Cloud, because his guardian really did look rough. Their swords leaned against the wall near the door. Web stood back and admired the gleaming blades while Cloud lounged in one of the overstuffed chairs.

"That's some mighty fine craftsmanship, Cloud. Those are no second-rate weapons. What do you do that you need such fancy swords? Surely those can't just be for delivering packages."

"Oh," Cloud said. "Well, I do run into quite a few monsters on some of my routes. But I used to be a…fighter."

Denzel perked up. "Cloud's the greatest swordsman ever! He keeps our whole town safe all by himself, and one time he defeated a huge summon monster and this crazy super soldier guy named Sephiroth who tried to destroy the Planet."

"Denzel," Cloud muttered, looking uncomfortable. He'd asked Denzel not to talk about their involvement in the events surrounding meteorfall because most people didn't know the half of what had happened anyway, but apparently the kid thought it was ok to talk about his _other_ heroics. Cloud would rather just be known as the delivery boy.

Web just smiled, humoring him. "Well, it sounds like at least you get some good use out of them. They must have cost a good chunk of gil."

"Oh, actually, Cloud made them himself," Denzel blurted.

Now Web really looked impressed. "Is that so? Sounds like you're a man of many talents, Cloud."

Cloud was looking distinctly awkward now. He shifted in his chair and changed the subject. "So what do you do out here by yourself all the time, Web?"

Web rolled with it and seated himself on one of the couches that surrounded the fireplace, leaning back and crossing an ankle over his knee. "Well, I'm a logger, so me and Linda spend a lot of time choppin' wood. Once every moon cycle, a man comes up from his shop at the base of the mountain and hauls it all back down." He chuckled. "He brings up all the supplies I need and gives me a little gil for the wood. I don't need much else."

They two men fell into comfortable small talk. Bored and getting sleepier by the second next to the blazing fire, Denzel climbed the ladder to the attic room Web had shown him earlier. It was pretty bare, with a ceiling that sloped sharply with the angle of the roof. Two single mattresses were laid out on the floor by the far wall. A lantern and Denzel's bag were the only other items in the room.

Denzel flopped down on the mattress and dug his pencil and sketch pad out of his bag. The itch in his head was driving him crazy. There were so many images in his mind that he'd been unable to get out while they were camping. He flipped to a clean page and let them out.

* * *

Cloud pulled himself slowly up the wooden ladder. He wasn't used to the weariness that clung to his bones, not since his epic adventure with his friends 7 years earlier. The lantern was still on, providing a soft glow in the small room, but Denzel was sound asleep on the mattress on the floor. His face was smooshed against his sketch pad. Cloud gently lifted the teenager's head. A piece of paper lifted with it, stuck to Denzel's cheek. Cloud unstuck the paper and pulled out the pad.

He started to put the pad away, but the picture on top caught his eye. He couldn't help but admire the obvious skill with which it was drawn, but it was disturbingly gruesome. It was the old man, Web. He was lying on the ground outside, his blood staining the pristine snow around him, partially concealed by a lopsided wood pile. Belinda was leaping toward a large green shred with her teeth bared, valiantly trying to protect her master, even though it looked like it might have been too late already.

Cloud sat back and rubbed his eyes, squinting at the picture. _Why would Denzel draw something like this? Should I talk to him about it? It's a little disturbing, but maybe it's normal for someone his age. How am I supposed to know? Gaia, I wish I could talk to Tifa. She'd know what to do._

His eyes softened as he looked at the slumbering boy. He had such an innocent face, but he'd been through more in his 14 years than anyone should have to suffer in a lifetime. He'd seen death up close too many times, even stared it in the face himself. Outwardly, Denzel had handled it remarkably well, but that kind of experience left marks on a person's soul. So maybe he just imagined the death of everyone he met. Maybe he did that to protect himself before he lost another person he cared about. Cloud laughed wryly at himself, trying to psychoanalyze someone else. He couldn't even make sense of his own head.

He wondered if it would be an invasion of privacy to look through his sketches; the teenager never shared anything he'd drawn. He dismissed the flash of conscience. It wasn't like it was a diary or something.

The next most recent was a picture centered around Marlene. She had a pained look on her face, her back turned to a trio of girls that looked about her age. The girls were in front of a row of lockers, their heads together. Their faces were scornful, and one was whispering behind her hand. Cloud frowned and continued flipping.

He came across a picture of Jameson Keenan, arms crossed over his gut with a look of fury on his face. Cloud had to smile. Denzel had really nailed his expression. That was pretty much exactly the way Jameson had looked the night he had visited them at the bar.

He turned back more pages, seeing several pictures of people he didn't recognize; he guessed they were people from school. He saw other pictures of people he knew only from the bar, surprised that Denzel had captured them so well. Maybe he should pay more attention to how much time the boy was spending out there.

Cloud flipped another page and saw an impressive gathering of pictures of himself in numerous battles. It was like a collage of fights, a dozen small sketches facing all different directions, all on one page. It was strange to see it from another person's perspective. Cloud had absolute focus when he fought; he only saw his opponents, his allies, and his usable terrain. But in these pictures, he looked like some kind of warrior. Maybe that was how he looked in Denzel's mind, he mused with a grin. He continued flipping.

On the next picture, he froze. It was another sketch of himself, with red tinted irises and tongues of flame on his upraised hands. He had only told Denzel about his ability yesterday, and this picture was so far back in the pad.

Cloud forced himself to breathe. This picture could mean anything. He had always used fire materia. He couldn't hold it in his hands like that, and Denzel had seen him use it enough to know better, but maybe it was creative interpretation. There was always a logical explanation.

The next picture was a startlingly lifelike portrait of Sephiroth. Light reflected off the Mesamune, and long silver hair flowed behind him. There was unmistakable malice in his eyes. Cloud forced a laugh. It was amazing how that man's face still made his heart beat a little faster. When did he get so close to Denzel, though? He gritted his teeth, thinking of that man getting anywhere near his boy. _He's dead, Cloud. It's just a picture. Relax._

Thoroughly rattled now, he continued flipping back through more pictures. When he had almost reached the front of the pad, he found a picture that sent a surge of pain through his heart. His hands shook and he dropped it.

The pad hit the wooden floor with a loud smack. Denzel woke up with a jerk, but in Cloud's tunnel vision, there was only the picture.

It was a sketch of a man in a familiar uniform, one Cloud used to have himself. He was tall and muscular, with spiky black hair. He had his hands on his hips and a cocky smirk on his face, but there was true kindness behind his eyes. Every detail was there, from the diamond stud in his ear to the X-shaped scar on his jaw and the hilt of the Buster over his shoulder.

"Cloud?" Denzel's voice was scratchy with sleep.

Cloud's eyes snapped up to him. "Where did you see this picture?" he demanded roughly. He felt like his whole past had been laid bare to the world. Hastily bandaged wounds, all his shame and weaknesses, had been ripped open and exposed.

Denzel's eyes widened. "I…I don't remember. I just saw him somewhere."

"Don't lie to me, Denzel," Cloud demanded, stepping closer. "We only have one picture of him, and it was in a locked box in a locked drawer in my office. How did you get this? Were you digging through my things?"

Cloud's eyes were brighter than Denzel had ever seen, mako blue tinged with red, pulsing with light. Denzel scooted away on his mattress and Cloud followed him. The teen had never in his life been afraid of Cloud, but at that moment, he was terrified. His heart hammered and sweat broke out all over his body. At that moment, he was certain that Cloud was about to attack him. He cowered against the wall in the menacing shadow and a soft whimper escaped.

Cloud blinked, and some of the brightness faded from his eyes. "What are you…I don't…" He stumbled back a few steps, horrified as understanding dawned on him. "Denz, I…" He shook his head. "I need some air."

He jumped down to the floor below without bothering with the ladder and strode out the back door. He kicked at the nearby wood pile, sending the top half of the snow-covered pyramid flying. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. He had never seen Denzel look so frightened, and the fact that the kid had been so scared of _him_ made Cloud sick to his stomach. What had even set him off? He always kept his emotions in check, his temper carefully controlled because he was well aware how easily he could hurt someone by accident.

He slumped against the wall of the cabin until he slid down to the ground. He put his elbows on his drawn-up knees and dug his hands into the blond spikes on his head. _That sketch…there was no way he could get so much detail from that grainy picture of him with Tifa and Sephiroth. Is it possible he found another picture somewhere else? Some old Shinra propaganda? No, it's doubtful. They were pretty thorough about trying to erase his existence after he disappeared from Nibelheim. As if anyone could ever forget Zack._

After brooding for several minutes, his butt started to protest the frozen ground. Reluctantly, he pushed himself to his feet. He needed to go apologize to Denzel. As he turned to head inside, the wood pile caught his eye. It was the same lopsided wood pile he had seen in the drawing of the old man, complete with the partial snow-covering. The outer layers of the pile were coated in white, but the logs that were exposed when he kicked off the top rows were bare of snow.

Cloud gingerly touched the dry logs on top. It didn't make any sense. His memory had to be playing tricks on him. He needed to talk to Denzel, and he had to get another look at that picture. He stomped the snow from his boots underneath the dry overhang and went back inside.

When he poked his head up into the room, Denzel was sitting at the head of the mattress with his knees drawn to his chest. He watched Cloud warily as he climbed the rest of the way up and sat down on the other mattress. Cloud focused on his boots and began loosening the tight laces. He kept his eyes away from the teen as he fumbled for words. "I didn't mean to…" he sighed and shoved his hands through his hair. "Denz, you know I would never try to hurt you. Right?"

Denzel shrugged and looked down. "Yeah, I know. But..." He rested his chin on his knees. "I dunno. You didn't look like yourself. Your eyes were really bright and they had this red glow and the way you were looking at me…" he gulped.

The guilt fought its way back up, and Cloud pushed it down. "What do you mean about my eyes being red?"

"I mean the blue looked red. I don't know how else to describe it."

Cloud looked around for the drawings, but the pad had disappeared while he'd been outside. "Denzel, where is your sketch pad?"

Denzel looked uneasy. "I put it away because it seemed to…upset you."

Cloud was careful to keep his voice level and his eyes down as he pulled off his boots and gloves. He hoped it would make him appear less threatening, because Gaia, the last thing he wanted was for Denzel to feel threatened by him. "Will you let me look at it if I promise to stay calm? I think there are some things we need to talk about."

"I guess so," Denzel said hesitantly as he pulled the pad from beneath his pillow. He handed it over and Cloud accepted it gently, careful not to seem too aggressive.

He flipped to the page of himself with the fire in his hands. He pointed to the red-tinted irises in the sketch. "Is this what they looked like?"

Denzel nodded.

It was something Cloud had never known to happen before. Was it a trick of a light? A strange reflection? His blue eyes were always red in pictures, so why not? There were always logical explanations. _Right_. He wasn't even convincing himself. "Have you seen them like that before?"

"Yeah," Denzel said slowly. "Once. When all those monsters got into Edge and you were fighting them."

Cloud looked back at the picture. "Is that when you drew this? After that day?"

Denzel looked down and fidgeted with his socks. He shook his head.

Cloud took a deep breath. He flipped to the very last picture in the pad. He ignored the gory details for the moment and studied the wood pile. It wasn't his imagination – it matched exactly the wood pile out back after he'd kicked it.

He held the pad out to Denzel. "Why did you draw this?"

"I—I don't know," Denzel mumbled, not taking the pad, only glancing at it before looking away. "I just saw it in my head and drew it."

Cloud set down the pad. "Denzel. Look at me."

Denzel slowly raised his eyes to Cloud's, light blue to intense blue. They were the familiar eyes of his hero – molten steel forged through an unknown pain. A rush of images and feelings flashed through his head – Fenrir, Seventh Heaven, warmth, laughter, safety. He felt himself relax. He knew this man. He trusted him.

Denzel licked his lips nervously. He wasn't sure if he was ready to share his secret, but it was time. "Ok. Here's the thing. I sometimes…see things. My head starts itching on the inside, and won't stop until I put it on paper. It's like the pictures just need to be emptied out of my brain, and then it's okay."

"Itching inside? What does that mean?"

Denzel tapped his forehead. "Like right here, it itches, but it doesn't help to scratch it. It's like the itch is under my skin, inside my brain."

A shadow of a memory flickered. A dark shadow with its center right where Denzel had tapped his head. It was the shadow of Geostigma.

Cloud decided to keep that observation to himself. "I see," he said evenly. "What do you think the pictures mean?"

Denzel's brows furrowed as he summoned the thoughts he'd spent countless nights chasing in circles. "I don't know, Cloud. Sometimes it shows me things before they happen. But there are a bunch of others that don't seem to mean anything."

"Do you think they might be things that were supposed to happen, but never did because something changed? Or maybe things that happened in the past? Or things that happened after you drew them but you just weren't there to see?"

Denzel shrugged. "Maybe."

They lapsed into silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Finally, Cloud spoke softly. "So I guess I owe you an apology for accusing you of digging through my things."

"I didn't, Cloud, I swear," Denzel said with wide eyes. "I saw him in my head."

Cloud smiled gently. "I believe you. And I'm sorry."

Denzel nodded, accepting his apology. "So…who is he?" he asked timidly. "The soldier in the picture."

Cloud pushed back the flood of emotions that threatened to come to the surface. "I'll tell you about him sometime, but not right now. Right now, we need to figure out how to handle this." He tapped his finger on the picture of the old man.

Denzel's eyes widened. "What do you mean, _handle it_?"

"I mean, how do we stop it from happening? You weren't going to just let Web die, were you?"

"But I don't…I mean, Cloud, sometimes they don't happen for months. Or they never happen at all. How are we supposed to prevent something with no idea if it's supposed to happen tomorrow or 10 years from now?"

"If this is going to happen, it will be before the next snowfall," Cloud said confidently. He picked up the picture and pointed at the wood pile. "There's no snow on here because there were other logs on top of them before. It won't look like this after the next time it snows. If nothing happens by then, I guess it's not going to happen."

Denzel looked impressed. He was a little excited, too. He'd never tried to _change_ any of the things he'd seen. They usually didn't have enough detail for him to narrow down the place and time.

"But now, we really need to get some sleep," Cloud said, stretching out on his mattress and pulling the threadbare blankets over his body.

Denzel laid awake for a long time after Cloud's breathing became deep and even. He'd been so afraid of being judged, or not being believed, that he'd never wanted to show his sketches to anyone. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or scared now that he was no longer alone with the problem. Why had Cloud reacted so violently to the picture of the other soldier?

* * *

**Day 3**

When Denzel arose the next morning, sun filtered through the tiny attic window. He rolled over and was surprised to see Cloud, still fast asleep. He considered snuggling back into his toasty covers, but the most delicious smell wafted up through the opening in the floor.

He followed his nose down the ladder and into the kitchen, where Web stood hunched over the stove. Belinda was sprawled out on the floor next to her master, looking like she was more in the way than anything else. She raised her head and her tail thumped loudly on the floor when Denzel entered the room. Web looked over his shoulder.

"Well, good morning, Denzel!" He guffawed with laughter. "Nothing like the smell of food to bring a teenage boy running, eh?"

Denzel smiled. He couldn't deny that his appetite was often the great motivator behind his actions. "It smells really good, sir. Can I do anything to help?"

Web scratched his chin. "Now that you mention it, could you watch the stove for a few minutes? I need to fetch more logs for the fire." He set down his spatula and turned toward the back door.

"Yeah, I—" The sketch flashed through Denzel's head. "No! I mean—why don't we wait until Cloud gets up? He can get the wood for you. It's pretty heavy, right?"

The old man guffawed even louder as he continued toward the back door and picked up his boots. "Don't you worry about that, my boy. I manage just fine every other day of the year."

"I'll get it!" Denzel insisted frantically. "I mean, if you don't mind," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "I'd really like to. I need to get some air anyway."

The old man gave him a strange look, but set down his boots and shrugged. "Well, if you insist, lad."

Denzel nodded in relief. "Yeah. Just give me a second to get my shoes."

His shoes were still by the front door where he'd left them, right next to the two swords. After pulling on his shoes, he grabbed the harness with the mini fusion sword and slipped it on. If Web wondered why he needed a weapon, he didn't comment when Denzel walked through the kitchen.

The air outside was frigid. Denzel had forgotten how cold it was after less than a day inside the cozy cabin. At least he wouldn't be out there for long. He pulled his sleeves over his hands, ready to pick up the cold wood, when he heard the sound of scuffling and snorting behind him. He followed the sound back around another, larger wood pile. Two small green shreds, no taller than his knee, were wrestling around in the snow.

Denzel smiled. They were actually pretty cute. He could tell by their coloring that they were both female. He had planned to sneak away and leave them alone, but it was too late. The darker green shred spun around and slashed his ankle.

"Ow!" Denzel yelped, stumbling back. The animals followed him and he pulled out his mini fusion sword. He pressed the button on the guard and caught the second blade when it popped off.

He grinned as he held a weapon in each hand. When the lighter-colored monster jumped at him, Denzel swung at it with the weapon in his left hand. He slashed it out of the air, but it hit the dull side of the blade. It went flying and smacked against one of the farther wood piles.

He focused on the darker shred. She had seen her sister go flying and was not quite as eager to throw herself at Denzel. She stalked forward slowly. Denzel narrowly dodged a claw from the left and blocked one from the right. He countered with a fast jab at her neck. Green goo splattered the snow as she fell on her side, dead.

The lighter green shred had picked herself up after her collision with the wood pile and was slithering her way back over to Denzel. Senses heightened by adrenaline, Denzel heard the faint creak of the door opening behind him. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder, hoping that it was Cloud, but at the same time hoping it was not.

It wasn't. It was the old man looking down a double-barrel shotgun. Denzel didn't have much experience around guns – they made him nervous, to be honest – and he didn't want to take his eyes off of the weapon, but just then the remaining shred leaped at him. He spun around and drew back his sword to strike. The gunshot was louder than Denzel expected, and it startled him mid-swing. He faltered, and while his strike didn't stop, it was slowed enough to miss the shred completely.

The beast looked startled as well. Already mid-leap, she couldn't stop her momentum any more than her opponent, but she was obviously thrown off. With a desperate-looking scrabble of her claws, one sharp nail scraped across Denzel's cheek as she flew right past him. Hitting the ground behind him, she quickly gained her feet and ran away from the cabin. A dribble of green followed her, but she would probably survive.

"Denzel!" Cloud pushed past the old man in the doorway, running out into the snow, sword in hand. He grabbed him by the shoulder, looking him over intently. "Are you ok?"

Denzel looked back at him calmly. "I'm fine." He looked down at the snow with his eyebrow raised. "Did you just run out here in your bare feet?"

Both men looked down at his feet against the blinding snow. "I guess I did." Cloud grinned sheepishly. "I just heard a gunshot and I panicked, but…looks like you had things under control." Denzel felt warmth spreading through his body. He had really done it! He had changed his vision and saved Web. Now they could go home.

"Come back inside, boys!" Web called out from the doorway. "I'm not trying to heat the entire mountain!"

Cloud muttered under his breath to Denzel as they both walked back to the cabin door. "Sounds just like Ma."

* * *

Breakfast was a little burned, but not bad. Web had left it unattended when he had heard the shrieking of the battling shreds outside. Cloud wasn't thrilled about the idea of Web shooting at a target so close to Denzel, but the old man waved away his concerns.

"Pish posh! I didn't shoot at him. I just shot it in the air. Most of the beasts 'round these parts know that sound by now. Just hearin' it's usually enough to clear them off the property. They don't venture near my cabin very often, but those were real young 'uns. They must not know any better yet."

They were sitting around the little table, enjoying their slightly burned sausages. Denzel had wiped the blood off of his cheek, but the scratches were minor enough that he wasn't willing to walk away from that delicious smell to tend to his wounds just yet.

"Did you sleep all right last night? You still look pretty tuckered." Web gestured to Cloud with his fork as he spoke.

For the first time that morning, Denzel looked closely at Cloud. He _did_ still look pretty rough, and the teen felt a flash of guilt that he hadn't noticed it earlier.

Cloud sat up straighter. "Yeah, it was fine. Maybe I'm coming down with something." He shrugged nonchalantly, but Denzel was even more concerned. Cloud was usually impervious to the illnesses that commonly plagued mere mortals.

But Web focused his attention back on Denzel. "That was some mighty stylish fighting you displayed out there, boy. Did your dad teach you?"

Denzel's brain stuttered. The first picture in his mind was of his real father, but of course he had been dead and gone for years, so Web couldn't have meant him. "Um… well…" He looked over at his companion. Cloud was awfully young to be his father, but the ashen tone of his skin and the bags he had never noticed beneath his eyes really did age his appearance.

Denzel shifted his eyes back to Web. "Uh, actually, Cloud taught me."

Web took it in stride and didn't pry any further into their relationship. "Well, he must be as legendary a swordfighter as you say, to pass on that kind of skill to you." The compliment must have slipped right past Cloud, because he didn't look uncomfortable for once. He looked like he was in a daze.

"Thank you, sir," Denzel said politely for both of them.

"I don't suppose you have a name for your sword?" Web asked, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Umm…well, I haven't decided for sure yet, but…I was thinking Skoll," Denzel said shyly.

"Ahh, Skoll!" The old man said. "Chaser of the sun, correct?"

"And son of Fenrir," Cloud added softly. He was listening after all. "Denz, I—"

Whatever he had been about to say was lost into a horrific grimace. Both of Cloud's arms wrapped around his torso as if they were holding in his insides, preventing them from escaping.

Denzel dropped to his knees in front of the chair. "Cloud? What's wrong? Cloud! Are you ok?"

Cloud's breathing was ragged, and the smell of smoke wafted into Denzel's nostrils. His eyes widened, recognizing the smell that had begun to permeate 7th Heaven so gradually that he hadn't even noticed. Denzel grasped his biceps, alarmed by the heat that almost burned his hands.

"Cloud! Say something!" He tried to hold back the tears. He wasn't a _baby;_ he shouldn't be so terrified to see Cloud like this. Logically, he knew that his hero wasn't _actually_ invincible, but he so rarely showed weakness or pain that Denzel knew it had to be bad to spark this kind of reaction. He ignored the heat of his skin and squeezed Cloud's arms harder, desperate to get some kind of recognition from the man.

Finally, slowly, the mop of blond hair rose. Mako blue eyes were hazy with pain. "I'm ok, Denzel. I'm fine."

" _Fine_?" Denzel exclaimed. "You are not fine! Your skin is burning hot and you didn't respond to me for…I dunno, minutes, at least!"

Cloud smiled weakly. "You're channeling Tifa."

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe you need someone to take care of you! Maybe you don't know when to quit and you have to be _ordered_ before you'll actually rest!" Denzel didn't know why he was so angry, but he had to smother the urge to shake Cloud until he rattled. He might have done just that if Web hadn't intervened at that moment.

At some point while Denzel was busy panicking, Web had gone outside and filled a large metal pot with snow. He set it down on the floor next to Denzel and began packing handfuls against the skin of Cloud's bare arms. It was melting almost as fast as he could apply it.

Denzel got the idea and unzipped Cloud's sweater, pulling it off over his arms to expose more skin for Web. It was like undressing a rag doll. He put a hand under Cloud's chin and another on the top of his pale hair and tilted his head back until it rested on the top of the chair's back rest. Glazed eyes tinted with red stared dully at the ceiling.

The incongruence of his behavior was disturbing. Cloud didn't ask what he was doing or try to take control of the situation for once; he just let the two men take care of him. Dry, wrinkled hands covered his chest and arms with cool bliss; soft, young hands patted relief onto his face. The chair held a puddle in which he now sat, soaking into his pants as it slid down from his chest. Water dripped down the sides of his face, into his ears, soaking his hair.

Finally, Cloud lifted his drenched head. His golden hair was plastered to his head with the weight of the water. He pushed his fingers back through the sodden mop, which released the excess water and sprang back into its usual spikes, albeit messier than usual. He blinked at Denzel and Web, then looked down at the floor dully. "I got your floor all wet."

Denzel let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Web guffawed with laughter. "Don't you worry none about that, son. Belinda does that at least 3 times a day." The mutt in question made her presence known by lapping loudly at the puddles on the floor. Web reached over and rubbed her head affectionately. "Thanks for the assist, Linda."

Shaking his head, Cloud used the chair to push himself to his feet. "Thank you for everything, Web. We should really get going now."

"Are you crazy?" Denzel sputtered. "Did you see yourself just now? What if that had happened while we were flying down the road at the speed of 3 times insanity?"

Cloud chuckled wearily. "3 times insanity? I don't think I've seen that one on the speedometer."

Denzel was not amused. "I'm serious, Cloud. I'm not getting back on that bike until you look at least half alive."

The smile slipped from Cloud's face and he looked stern. "We really shouldn't impose on Web any longer."

"Are you kidding?" Web interjected. "Do you have any idea how lonely it gets up here? No offense, Linda," he said, shooting a quick grin at the dog. "Havin' you both here is about the highlight of my year. You can stay as long as you like. Honestly, I'd feel like I killed ya myself if I let you walk out lookin' like you do."

Cloud rubbed his eyes. "Well…maybe one more day," he relented.

"At least," Denzel said firmly. "And you should really go back to bed. Come on." He grabbed Cloud's hand and pulled him along like a child to nap time. When they reached the bottom of the ladder, Denzel stepped back to let Cloud go up first, then followed closely behind him.

"What are you doing?" Cloud asked with a smirk as he plopped down on his mattress.

"Making sure you're doing what you're supposed to!"

Cloud chuckled as Denzel pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. "When did you get so grown up?" His face stretched in a wide yawn and he snuggled into his pillow.

Deep, even breathing told Denzel there was no need to answer. He sat on his own mattress and stared at the blond warrior. Although Cloud was trying to pretend that everything was fine, Denzel was really worried. He touched the spot on his own forehead. There was no itch, but maybe it could be used in a different way. Maybe if he just started drawing, he could force the ability to show him what he wanted to see.

Pulling out his sketchpad, he started with a broad outline of Cloud's figure. He sketched a determined look on Cloud's face and searched for that itch. Nothing. He filled in the details of his hair. Nothing. He put him into a fighting stance, placed a sword in his hand. Nothing. Moving to a clean section of the paper, he sketched out Fenrir and drew Cloud in her seat. Still nothing. Denzel was starting to lose hope.

Maybe he should try something familiar or mundane. Many of his drawings seemed to be just moments in time that were somewhat ambiguous in regard to time or circumstances. Maybe he was trying to be too specific. He ripped out the piece of paper and crumpled it into a ball.

Starting on a new sheet, he sketched a large area around the business square in Edge. As he was drawing Mr. Mio's store, he felt the urge to give it a crumbled corner. The bricks along the edge of the building were cracked. Various pieces of debris littered the ground in front of the store. Was this actually working, or was he just convincing himself that these images were subconscious?

Denzel moved on to the monument that decorated the center of the square. It had been made from pieces of scrap from every former sector of Midgar. When the city had been whole, each sector below the plate had a distinct look. Midgar drew peoples from all corners of the planet, making the city a diverse hodgepodge of culture. Even so, people of different races tended to congregate with their own, and the dominant races of each sector were strongly represented with their unique cultural flavors.

Above the plate was an entirely different story; every plate-dweller had something in common with everyone else, regardless of race. They all had money. Races were slightly less segregated, and the décor leaned more toward modern and flashy, less old-world pride. They had the luxury of art and technology. They liked shiny things. Above the plate they had the wide-open sky and the sun casting light into even the darkest corners, and they shuddered to think of the shadows and filth below them, when they bothered to thing about them at all.

But in Edge, a conglomeration of the refugees from above and below plate, everyone started out with nothing. They had all lost their homes, their possessions, and far too many of their friends and family. For the first time, the people of the slums had an advantage. They were skilled in hard labor, accustomed to missing meals and working through injury and sickness. The formerly privileged folks suffered with their new standard of living and wrestled with their life's purpose. What good was an art curator in a settlement where most citizens slept in the shelter of fallen debris? What could a perfumier do in a place where bathing was hardly a priority and it was only tolerable to breathe through one's mouth? It was a time for rebuilding, for learning new skills and recognizing equality in people of all races and backgrounds.

The monument was a symbol of this homologizing, a celebration of similarities as well as differences. As reconstruction slowed and culture was reintroduced, the natural separation of the educated and the laborers became apparent, but in the center of the square was this lasting reminder that at one time, they had all leaned on each other; they had all been equals.

In Denzel's drawing, the monument reminded them only of the demolition of everything they had known. The object at the base of the statue was a large square from an iconic section of wall from Sector 1, but the object he drew was a jagged triangle. The rest of the monument was scattered around the square. The wing of an angel statue from Sector 3 was lodged in the wooden wall of Mr. Keenan's office. The head of the Honeybee from Wall Market was a pile of colored glass shards in the alley.

Denzel closed his eyes and held his pencil loosely, barely aware of what he was drawing. His hand flew across the paper, furiously scribbling. When it was finished, he picked it up and examined the most detailed sketch he had ever made. It was a scene of absolute catastrophe. None of the buildings around the square had escaped the massacre. The pieces of the shattered monument were only a small part of the debris littering the area. Whole sections of buildings were collapsed. The gouges in the walls had to have been made by a beast larger than Bahamut.

Some kind of substance covered the debris and buildings, blurring the texture, but he couldn't determine color from the pencil drawing and had no idea what it might be. The destruction reached to all four edges of the paper, which meant that the damage extended beyond the scope of the large square.

Most horrifying of all were the bodies. Arms and legs of all sizes stuck out from underneath the debris, and a headless torso hung over the edge of a roof. A well-loved doll had been speared through by a pole, a poignant representation of the death surrounding it.

Swallowing back his gorge, Denzel snapped the sketchbook closed. He had no way of knowing if it was real or a product of his imagination, or even if it would happen during his lifetime. What he _did_ know is that if Cloud saw it, he would want to get back to Edge immediately. In his current condition, Denzel couldn't allow that. He shoved the pad into his suitcase, burying it under his clothes.

* * *

**Day 4**

Web had an extra axe. Although the old man insisted it wasn't necessary, Denzel was happy to help him chop some wood. It kept his mind busy—off of the sketch buried in his suitcase—and burned his restless energy. At least he could see how Web had stayed so strong and nimble; logging was hard work. He was also beginning to suspect that the constant biting wind on his skin made him look older than he really was.

The secret he was keeping from Cloud was eating away at Denzel. He hadn't even been able to call Tifa and be reassured that everything was still ok in Edge, because Cloud's phone didn't get a signal way out here. Web had just laughed when Denzel asked if he had a landline.

"Are you sure you've never done this before, son?" Web asked as Denzel hacked away at a limb bigger than himself. "I've never seen such a natural."

"Not exactly," Denzel grinned. "But I train with a sword almost every day, and the movements are pretty similar."

"Well in that case, I oughta be a heck of a sword fighter!" Web crowed.

The old man really did seem to be fascinated with the mechanics of fighting. When Denzel took a break to get a drink and warm up for a few minutes, he grabbed his sword and bracer from the cabin, still equipped with the materia he'd been using. He wanted to give Web a demonstration.

He headed back to the door and pulled it open. "Hey Web, I got—" He stopped in his tracks. A giant green shred towered over Web. The old man was slowly stepping backwards toward the stump where he'd left his gun, trying not to startle the beast. Carefully wrapping his hand around the barrels, he brought it forward and raised it at a snail's pace. A startling _bang_ spurred both Denzel and the shred into action.

Denzel pulled his sword from its sheath and lunged forward with a wild swing that grazed the shred, trying to distract the beast advancing on the old man. It didn't even break the tough skin, but it was enough to get its attention. He adjusted his stance, anticipating the next attack.

"I thought you said they hardly came on your property and were scared of gunshots!" Denzel called over the growling and snarling of the shred.

"Well, those rules don't apply when you kill one of her babies on your property!" Web yelled back.

With a flash of understanding, Denzel remembered the sketch. The beast in his picture had towered over the wood piles, much larger than the baby he had killed the day before. They had let their guard down, thinking they had prevented the attack. Now they were dealing with a grieving mother.

The shred charged at Denzel. He struck out with form that would've made Cloud proud, slashing the shred across the chest. The shred snarled and recoiled this time, but the stiff skin didn't allow the cut to open very wide, letting out only a thin stream of green blood.

Another shot rang out, blowing a hole right through the shred's leg. She roared this time and turned toward her aggressor. She was slowed by the bullet, but she was still faster than the old man. He was hurriedly loading another shell, but his hands shook and he couldn't get it into place before a giant claw ripped through his chest.

Web flew backwards with a spray of blood across the snow. Denzel screamed. Deeming that the old man was no longer her biggest threat, the mama shred turned toward the teenager, but all he could see was the blood pumping out of Web's body like a geyser. He pushed back all his emotions, all the distractions of the battle like Tifa had taught him, and focused his cure on Web. The bleeding slowed dramatically and he kept casting, but he was being charged by the big green reptile and self-preservation instincts kicked in. He raised the sword over his head and charged it for 2 precious seconds before swinging it down.

The blade sliced into the shred's chest, and Denzel released the ice spell directly into it. He allowed himself a quick rush of pride when he realized that he'd delivered a perfect slash-materia combo attack, but he didn't have time to celebrate. The shred had stumbled and fallen backwards, but had clipped Denzel with the tips of her claws, starting slow bleeding from four little slices on his chest. Even with the perfect attack, he wouldn't last long against those deadly blades on her fingers.

_Even an unstoppable offense is worthless if you never get a chance to use it._ Denzel scowled and searched his memory for a more useful bit of training. _This is a close-range enemy. If I get enough distance, I can use materia and stay safely out of his reach._

Denzel took a few quick steps backwards, raising his sword and casting ice as he backed away. The ice was hitting the shred, but she barely seemed to notice. As soon as he was at a safe distance, he turned his attention back to Web. The puddle of red surrounding him was huge now. He couldn't possibly still be alive with that much of his blood outside of his body. A pain in his chest threatened to overwhelm him, but Denzel bit down on his lip, hard. He had to keep his mind focused if he wanted to survive the battle himself. He charged his ice for only a fraction of a second before the mama shred was on him again.

He threw the spell at the beast, but it didn't slow her at all this time. He needed a new strategy. The button on the handle of Skoll caught his eye. _Yes! Dual wielding. Maybe I can keep her back far enough if I use two swords._

Denzel pushed the button, releasing one of the blades and catching it in his left hand. He swung both swords clumsily at the same time as she descended on him. The sword in his right hand didn't have enough power to break the skin, and he didn't grip the one in his left tightly enough. It slipped out of his grasp as it struck the tough skin, flying out of reach.

His mind was whirling. Nothing seemed to be very effective. He charged up ice again as he stumbled back from the shred, and tried another slash-materia combo, but his timing was off and the ice shot off into the branches, showering them both with snow from the tree. Denzel stumbled back, caught off guard by the whirlwind of snow, but mama shred wasn't even fazed. She lunged at Denzel, swatting at the sword while he was distracted. He lost his grip on the weapon, watching the last two pieces of Skoll go flying and earning deep gouges along the back of his hand and wrist.

All he could do was run. He was helpless. His only attack materia was slotted securely in the sword that was now out of reach. He was going to be killed by some stupid oversized lizard in the middle of a stupid frozen mountain.

He fought back against the wave of despair that threatened to overwhelm him. _Man up, Denzel. Don't you dare give up._ The voice he heard was the commanding tone of his trainer. The first blade he had lost was behind him, but he had learned his lesson about turning his back on his opponent. He ran backwards as fast as he could. The shred pulled back her right arm again and he reflexively tried to block the attack.

It might have worked better if he'd actually had a weapon in his hand.

He couldn't suppress the scream that escaped when her claws tore through his skin of his palms and forearms, or the tears that burned down his face when he tripped and fell.

The shred loomed over him and raised a claw, dripping with blood. _Is it my blood? Or Web's blood?_ Denzel curled into a ball in an instinctive effort to protect his head, although he knew in his mind that it was futile. It was over.

The shred screeched in triumph. Denzel had read that some animals let out a shrill victory call when their enemy had been defeated, the beastly equivalent of checkmate. Some disconnected part of his brain wondered if he should feel privileged; he was one of the few people who ever got to hear that call. It was too bad he only had moments to appreciate it. He braced himself for the pain.

It didn't come.

She shrieked again and this time it was followed by a wave of heat.

He peeked his head out of his arms. Cloud looked like an avenging angel with his giant sword blazing, sending almost constant shots of red from the materia glowing in his weapon. The shred was recoiling, backing away from him, and now Denzel recognized the shrieks as screams of pain.

The howling may as well have been his own. His hands and lower arms felt like ribbons of hanging flesh. All he could think about was the pain. All he could see was blood, and the glimmer of green shining from underneath the streaming blood.

_Materia! I forgot about my restore materia!_ But his head was still a jumbled mess. It was impossible to focus, impossible to hear anything but the sounds of battle and pain.

_'Do you really think your enemy will sit quietly and wait for you to calm your mind? Learn to quiet the noise in your head and **listen**.'_

He should have listened to Tifa. He should have worked harder at that lesson. Even Marlene had failed to focus when she was scared, and she was a master healer. Marlene was the one who taught him how to hear the voices in the first place! She had told him to remember that night in Costa del Sol.

_"Getting tired, buddy?"_

He heard it in his head as clearly as he had that day. Denzel focused on that voice, extracting the affection, the concern, the tenderness in his tone. Yes, he was certain all of that was wrapped up in those three words.

_"Getting tired, buddy?"_

He heard the grains of sand sliding under Cloud's heel as he stretched out his leg. He felt the warm weight of Cloud's hand on his head, his fingers idly moving against his hair; the muffled cadence of his voice and the security it implied.

_"Getting tired, buddy?"_

The battle was miles away. The lifestream was right there. He let the whispers flow around and through him, channeling it into the materia in his bracer. He rolled over and directed the stream at Web. Healing magic flowed from his fingers, but soon the stream was waning, getting thinner and slower until it was only a trickle. Encouraged by a wet-sounding cough from that direction, he redoubled his efforts, forcing the stream that was suddenly harder to move. The stream was pushing back, a slow-moving wave of pain going up his fingers, wrists, arms, shoulders—

_"Denzel, stop! Stop doing that!"_

The words didn't register. He heard them, but he didn't know what they meant. He couldn't think about anything except Web and that huge crimson aura in the snow. He pushed harder and the pain pulsed through his head.

With a sudden ripping sensation, the stream was gone. A moment later, so was the pain in his hands and arms. He felt himself being laid back gently in the snow. All he could see were familiar boots walking away, but why were they walking on the ceiling?

A moment later, two pairs of boots were back in his field of vision, two sets of knees almost touching the ceiling below the boots. One of the pairs of boots was untied. They moved out of his vision, trailing the loose laces, and then the world spun.

Closing his eyes against the vertigo, he heard someone speaking, but he didn't know the language. Too tired to tell the person that he didn't speak his language, Denzel just shook his head. He felt himself falling backwards. He flailed his arms and legs, trying to catch himself, but it took too much energy, so he relaxed and just let himself fall.

Yskr iy rsdy, nuffy. Judy trlsc.

He stopped falling and felt something soft under his butt and behind his back.

Ftink yhid.

Something was pressed against his lips. He was too tired to protest when his mouth was pulled open and something bitter coated his tongue and trickled down his throat.

"Wha…huh?"

The first thing to come into focus was that familiar blue. Cloud blinked down at him. "Welcome back. How do you feel?"

"Uh. Like I haven't slept in days," Denzel said sluggishly. With a great deal of effort, he lifted his head and looked around. He was seated in one of the cushy armchairs in Web's Great Room, with waves of heat washing over him from the fireplace.

Denzel attempted to wet his lips, but his tongue didn't seem to have much wetness to spare. "Why do I feel like roadkill?"

"Overuse of materia," Cloud said. "Your head should be clearing up soon from the ether I gave you."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's getting better. What happened, though?"

"You kept trying to cure Web when your mind was too strained. I couldn't get you to stop. I had to tear off your bracer to break the stream. Sorry," he winced.

"Web…oh Gaia, is he…" Denzel couldn't bring himself to say the words.

Guffawed laughter drew his eyes to the wrinkled, stooped old man as he entered the room with a tray carrying three steaming cups of coffee. "Right as rain, thanks to you!"

The weight was lifted from Denzel's heart and he jumped up, only to be pushed back down by his shoulders when he wobbled and his vision faded to black. His world came back into focus as two strong, dry hands clasped onto one of his.

"You saved my life, son. I would have been getting picked apart by vultures right now if it weren't for you." A distant look came into his eyes as he muttered, "I guess ol' Abe repaid his debt after all."

"Abe Jenkins?" Denzel questioned. "That package he sent was to repay a debt?"

Web chuckled. "Naw. Debts aren't always owed or repaid in gil. What he sent me was much more valuable than that."

The old man disappeared into another room. Denzel gave Cloud a puzzled look and received a shrug in response. A moment later, Web returned with a framed photograph in his hands. His finger traced a gentle line along the front of the picture before turning it to show it to his guests.

It was a photograph of a sturdy-looking young brunet man with his arm around a stunningly beautiful redhead. She had her head thrown back, laughing at something, and the man gazed at her with open adoration. It was the kind of love that couldn't be faked, the kind of happiness that so few people found in another. The frame was a beautiful reflective silver. The picture was crisp, clear, and bright, aged only by the outdated hairstyle and clothing. Denzel squinted at the young man in the picture, finally recognizing the vibrant, laughing eyes lurking within Web's muddy browns.

"It's been 20 years since I lost my Coral," he said with a cracking voice, hugging the frame to his chest. "I carried this picture with me everywhere. It was so creased and faded, I could hardly even make out her face anymore. Ol' Abe saw it and told me he could make it look like new again." He shook his head slowly as he studied the picture again. "It wasn't true, though. Even when it was new, it didn't look this good. I can almost hear her laugh in my head when I look at this."

"So…what is it a repayment for?" Denzel asked, still not sure what any of this had to do with their adventure in the backyard.

Web blinked rapidly, pulling himself back to the present. His voice was filled with good-humored scorn. "Oh, that old codger went and got himself lost on my mountain. Nearly frozen stiff when I found him. I loaded him onto my wood sled and Linda helped me haul him back here." From her place on the hearth, the dog thumped her tail on the floor at the mention of her name. "He said he could never repay me for saving his life, but then he sent you," he said, his gap-toothed grin splitting his face. "So now I guess I owe him for the picture."

Denzel smiled back weakly, too exhausted to do much more. His eyes drifted to the fire, listening to the comforting pop and crackle of the burning wood.

He must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing he knew, Cloud was sitting in the chair next to him with Skoll leaning against the wall. He didn't even know he had gone to retrieve it. Denzel leaned forward and picked up his assembled sword. His fingers traced over the buttons on the guard sadly. "I don't think I'm cut out for dual wielding, Cloud."

"Well of course not," Cloud said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence," Denzel said dryly.

"No, I mean, you're not ready yet. I made you that sword so you would have four different styles to use – the three individual blades and the fully assembled sword. Each style works better in a different combat situation." Reading the teen's dejected look, Cloud softened. "I guess it's my fault for not explaining that. I didn't expect you to try dual wielding before you were trained in it. It takes a lot of coordination and strengthening on your non-dominant side. If you really want to learn it, I can add it to your training."

Denzel shrugged listlessly. "Maybe I'm not cut out for fighting at all."

Cloud studied the teen, weighing his words. "If you don't want to do it anymore, that's ok," he said slowly. "But this seems kind of sudden. You've put two years into training already. You're much better than I was at your age." He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. "Denzel, where is this coming from?"

"I guess I just thought I could handle myself better than I did. Without you, I mean. But I was just useless. I used my sword and I tried materia, but nothing was hurting it."

"You used ice materia," Cloud said flatly.

"Well, yeah. And my magic is so weak it hardly even noticed I was doing anything."

"Ahh," Cloud mused, leaning back in his chair. "You think it's because your casting was too weak?"

"It isn't?"

"Not at all. You just used the wrong element."

Denzel rubbed at his face and groaned. Time for another lesson, and he was really not in the mood.

"You remember when I taught you about elemental opposites?" Cloud pressed onward. At Denzel's reluctant nod, he continued. "Well, the beasts who live in this kind of climate generally have ice as their natural element, and a weakness to the opposite element. You would've been fine if you'd had fire materia equipped. Sometimes it's more about strategy than ability." He quirked a smile at him.

Denzel grunted in frustration. "I'm never gonna learn all this."

"Sure you will," Cloud said. "Over time. Here." He walked over to where he had left First Tsurugi by the front door and popped the fire materia from the blade. He tossed it to Denzel. "Keep that for the rest of the trip. We both know I don't need it," he said with a wink.

* * *

One more hot meal later, Denzel and Cloud packed their belongings and bundled up for the cold. Web sent several days' worth of home-cooked meals with them, insisting that he had more than he could eat in a lifetime and Belinda didn't appreciate his cooking as much as they did. Truthfully, they didn't argue too strenuously.

Web and his dog accompanied them out the front door where Fenrir was waiting patiently. They wore equally forlorn looks as their visitors said goodbye.

Denzel felt a little sad, knowing that he'd likely never see the kindly old man again. At least he would be alive to rescue unprepared hikers who stumbled upon his mountain for a little while longer.

"Hey Web," he called from the back of Fenrir before they took off. "How far do we have to go before we get a cell signal?"

"Oh, probably not until you reach the bottom of the mountain," he said, scratching Belinda's head. "Why?"

"I just miss my family," Denzel said with a shrug. But he couldn't meet the old man's eyes as he said it. The sketch pad in his backpack weighed a ton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After I wrote this chapter, my daughter (who actually is an artist, unlike me) explained that a sketch book actually is a private thing like a diary, and it's bad form to look through someone's sketches, even if they show you one of their drawings. She likened it to when you show someone a picture on your phone, and they then scroll through the rest of your camera roll. Duly noted. Shame on you, Cloud! (But cut him some slack – parenting is a perpetual learning experience!)


	6. Out of the Woods

The road to the bottom of the mountain was as cold and treacherous as Denzel remembered. They went even slower on the way down, as the falling snow obscured the narrow path and camouflaged the edge of the cliff. The pace must have been excruciating for Cloud, who lived life on the razor edge of light speed, but he wasn't willing to be so careless with Denzel at his back.

Unfortunately, the creatures of the mountain had more evolutionary advantages on the ice than Fenrir’s tires, and a couple of shreds, looking disturbingly similar to the mother that Denzel had battled behind Web’s cabin, were following the bike. They were gaining ground and would need to be dealt with, and Denzel had no intention of missing his shot at redemption.

_Fire. They're weak to fire._ Retrieving Skoll from his sheath, Denzel hooked his left arm through the back of Cloud’s empty harness to brace himself as he twisted around in the seat. “I got this,” Denzel yelled over the howling wind.

Cloud glanced over his shoulder to see the shreds closing in on the bike as he maneuvered it down the slippery trail. “All yours,” he confirmed, turning his attention back to the road and speeding up as much as he dared.

Denzel held Skoll over his head, listening for the voices in the lifestream. He heard the whispers as clearly as ever in his mind. The external sounds of the howling wind and the powerful engine faded to a low hum. He focused the stream on the fire materia, charged it up through his sword, and swung it down.

The red wave shot out from the end of the sword, hitting one of the shreds squarely in the chest. It stumbled and fell back a few steps, emitting a horrible shriek. "Yeah! Take that!" But after only a few seconds, the lizard shook itself, and then growled and resumed the chase. 

The other shred was getting uncomfortably close to the rear tire. It seemed honed in on the heat and smell of the living creatures on the bike, paying no attention to the vulnerable tire that would have ended their chase, but its claws were long and sharp. Even an accidental brush would have been catastrophic, and the rubber was between the monster and its target.

Wary of the deadly blades slicing through the air so close to the tire, Denzel only charged the spell for a few seconds before releasing it this time. The red wave smacked against the torso of the second shred, but he snarled and slowed less than the first. By this time, the first had already recovered, and was starting to close in on the bike again. Denzel sent out more and more fire, alternating shots between the shreds, but each one had less time to charge and was weaker than the one before.

Denzel started to panic. This was his fight! He didn’t want to give in and ask Cloud for help, but he was barely holding off the two beasts. They weren’t getting any closer, but he was burning through magic points quickly. Cloud had helped him figure out his capacity one day during training, and it was pitifully low. He had no idea how much more the monsters could take.

Suddenly, the closer shred made a leap for the bike. Denzel let out a startled yelp and lashed out with Skoll, knocking it back, narrowly missing the tire with his sword. The lizard landed on its face, skidding across the ice and triggering another memory.

_Always be aware of your terrain. Use it to your advantage. If you don’t, your opponent will use it against you._

With a burst of courage, Denzel stood up on the seat, his left arm still securely looped in Tsurugi’s harness, though now up at Cloud’s shoulders. Cloud looked back at him with alarm. “Denzel! What are you doing?”

“I told you, Cloud, I got this. Just drive!”

Cloud was looking uncharacteristically nervous, but he did as Denzel requested.

The shred nearest the mountain wall was closer, a few steps ahead of its friend. Denzel glanced at the trail ahead and charged his fire materia, visualizing his attack. Leaning forward as far as he could reach, keeping his knees slightly bent for stability, Denzel watched the shred close in. He became more and more tense as the beasts drew closer. The nearer lizard leapt into the air, arm drawn back to slice through tender flesh. _Now!_

Denzel surged forward and slashed, driving Skoll into the beast’s chest and releasing the fire right in the center. The force of the explosion in its chest threw the shred backwards into its friend, and threw Denzel into Cloud’s back. Cloud reached behind him and forced Denzel down onto the seat, stabilizing him. The shreds skidded across the ice and tumbled over the edge of the cliff together.

The momentary fear of falling off the bike wasn’t enough to dampen Denzel’s euphoria as he slid his sword back into its sheath and wrapped his arms securely around Cloud’s waist once again. “Waahoohoohoo! I did it, Cloud! Did you see that? I did it!”

Cloud leaned into the next turn and grunted. “Yeah. Great job, Denz. Now don’t ever do that again.” He didn’t look back. He didn’t want the kid to see the smile on his face.

*****

Night had fallen by the time they reached the forest where they had spent their second night of the trip. The original plan had been to camp there on the way back after delivering the package, although they had intended to be there three days earlier.

As soon as the tires stopped moving, Denzel was on his feet. “Cloud, can I call Tifa?”

Cloud looked over at him. “Uh, sure, but let’s get camp set up first.”

“Please, can I call her first?” Denzel begged. “I just need to talk to her for a minute, and then I’ll help set up, I promise.” 

Cloud slipped off his goggles and squinted at Denzel. “Why are you so excited to talk to Tifa all of the sudden?”

“I…well, it’s personal,” he said, looking away.

Cloud shrugged. He supposed it was ok for Denzel and Tifa to keep some things between themselves. “All right.” He tossed the phone to Denzel. “Let me talk to her when you’re done.” 

He started unpacking supplies from Fenrir while Denzel dialed. He set up the tent, laid out the sleeping bags, and carried their luggage inside their canvas haven. He pulled out the soft-sided cooler that Web had sent with all of his pre-cooked meals, placing it next to the intended fire pit. Returning to the bike, he released a bungee cord to pull out a bundle of wood, and then re-secured it around the remaining logs. Web had sent them off with more wood than they needed for the rest of the trip, so there was no point collecting more. 

“Cloud, she wants to talk to you.”

Cloud looked over at Denzel, who was holding out the phone. He took the phone and piled the wood in Denzel’s arms. “Want to set up the fire? Do you remember how I showed you to stack the wood?”

“Yeah,” Denzel said enthusiastically. He seemed so much more confident after his redeeming defeat of the shreds.

“Hey, Teef,” Cloud said into the phone.

“Cloud.” Tifa’s voice was clipped. “Please tell me Denzel was exaggerating.”

Cloud winced. He should have known Denzel would be excited to tell Tifa about his victorious battle on the mountain trail. As much as he tended to worry about Denzel when he was fighting, Tifa was even more protective.

“Um…probably…I wasn’t listening to what he said,” Cloud hedged.

“He said he was standing on the back of Fenrir fighting monsters while you were driving down a narrow mountain trail with no guard rail.”

Cloud grimaced. Yeah, that sounded bad. “Tifa, I’m sure what you’re picturing is much worse than it actually was. I was watching him the whole time,” he defended. “I was ready to step in anytime if he couldn’t handle it.”

“Really? Because I would hope you were watching the _road_ when you’re driving on an icy mountain trail.”

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. He really wished he didn’t suck so badly at explaining himself. “Ok. Teef, don’t you remember what it was like when you were a young and capable fighter, and everyone underestimated you and tried to protect you from everything?”

“Yes, but I—“

“You _still_ get mad when people suggest that you can’t handle yourself.”

“That’s not the same, Cloud!”

“Yes it is, Tifa,” he insisted calmly. “You were 15 when you brought a group of soldiers up a mountain trail to the reactor. You were furious when they didn’t let you go inside.”

“Exactly,” Tifa said, exasperated. “I was young and foolish and too confident for my own good. Look what happened when I actually _did_ go inside. I nearly died that day!”

Cloud sighed. That was probably a bad example. “Ok, look. I know you want to protect the kids forever. But we have to give them a little bit of room to make mistakes and learn from it. Denzel is strong and capable, but he needs real experience.”

“But he could—“

“I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to keep him safe. Please, Tifa. Can you just trust my judgement on this?”

Tifa was quiet for a moment. “All right,” she said softly. “I trust you, Cloud.”

He let out a silent sigh of relief. He so rarely won an argument with Tifa. In fact, he had no idea how he had managed that little speech. 

“How are things with Jameson?” he asked quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Denzel was still occupied. “Is he going to leave Denzel alone?”

“I—I think so. He might be trying a little harder to get at you, but—“

“That’s fine,” Cloud said dismissively. “I can handle him.”

“Ok,” Tifa said softly. “Denzel said you’d be home in a few days, right?”

“Yeah. We got stuck at the cabin a bit longer than we expected. Denzel has…well, I’ll tell you about it when we get home.”

“Is he—“ Tifa started sharply.

“He’s fine, Tifa. We’ll see you soon, ok?”

“Ok,” she said quietly. Then she added, “I love you.”

“I know,” he replied with a smirk.

“Cloooouuuud.”

He laughed softly. It was a running joke between them. She knew he had a hard time expressing his feelings, and he had never forgotten her words beneath the Highwind that night at the Northern Cave. _Words aren’t the only way to tell someone how you feel about them._ He was very, very good at those other ways, which he tried not to let her forget.

“Me too, Teef,” he said softly. “Bye.”

Cloud hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute before sliding it into his pocket. The brief mention of the reactor had started a churning in his stomach. Memories nagged him, knocking at the door of his conscious mind. He looked over at Denzel, who had stacked the larger logs beautifully and was now sitting back and staring at it, looking puzzled.

Cloud walked over and crouched down next to him on the ground. “You need to have the kindling pieces right underneath the longer-burning logs,” he said quietly, adding the shavings.

Denzel nodded, looking satisfied with the result. He looked up at Cloud. “Is everything ok with Tifa?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Cloud sent a stream of fire from his fingertips into the artfully stacked wood, eyes glued to the flames licking along the thick branches.

Denzel stood and began pulling containers from the cooler, dumping them into the little tin pans they had brought along for cooking. He returned to the fire with two of the pans, where Cloud was still staring blankly into the fire.

“Hey,” Denzel nudged him. “Everything ok?”

Cloud blinked and pulled his eyes away from the mesmerizing movement of the flames. “Huh?” His eyes fell on the pans in Denzel’s hands. “Oh, the grate. Sorry.” He retrieved the grill tray, unfolding the legs and securing it over the precisely constructed fire. Denzel set the pans on top of the grill and left to find some logs or boulders that would be more comfortable seating than the ground.

Once they were settled with their plates of reheated food, they ate in companionable silence in the flickering light of the fire. For several minutes, the sounds of the forest settling in for the night were broken only by plastic silverware scraping against plates.

With a full belly and satisfied sigh, Denzel set aside his empty plate and leaned against a large boulder that Cloud had moved near the fire for him, stretching out his legs. His eyes traced along the silhouette of mountains against the darkening sky. Cloud knew that Denzel had rarely been far from the city limits, so it must have still been strange to experience the night sky unspoiled by ambient light, the sound of the wind dancing through the leaves, and the regular nighttime sounds that were never heard over the constants of traffic and life in the city.

To Cloud, these sounds were home. _But Nibelheim isn’t home anymore_. The dark memories threatened to come to the surface again. He looked at Denzel across the fire: no longer a boy, but not yet a man. He felt like he had come to know Denzel much better over this trip, but how much had Denzel learned about Cloud? Denzel still knew only the sanitized, story-book version of Cloud, where there was a bad man who tried to destroy the Planet, and the good guys who had triumphed over evil.

Studying the teenager that the innocent, frightened little boy had become, Cloud knew that he couldn’t protect Denzel from the truth forever. He deserved to know who Cloud really was. Before he could talk himself out of it, Cloud broke the silence. “I never got mako shots. But that doesn’t mean I was never exposed to mako.”

Denzel looked startled to hear him speak. He probably hadn’t expected Cloud to bring up the topic on his own after the way he had reacted to his accusations on the first night. “Cloud,” Denzel said uncertainly, “it’s ok. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No. It’s time. I just…I have to figure out where to start.” Cloud gathered his thoughts and began his story. “You already know that I left home when I was 14. I wanted to join Shinra’s SOLDIER program. I wanted to be just like Sephiroth.”

Denzel gasped out loud. He had only heard the name ‘Sephiroth’ in the context of the villain who tried to destroy the planet. The fact that Sephiroth had once been a normal man with a job and goals was something that Cloud had never been anxious to expose to Denzel, much less admit that he had ever admired him. He was a two-dimensional bad guy, and that’s all there was to it. Except it wasn’t. Cloud struggled to explain.

“Sephiroth was the general of Shinra’s army, the original SOLDIER. The entire program was designed around him. I idolized him for years.” He let that sink in while his mind pulled forth the long-neglected memory of a little blond boy aching to escape the confines of his small town. Frustrated. Misunderstood. Angry, without really understanding why. “It’s hard to explain the way I thought of him. He was like a character from a comic book, inhumanly strong and fast and brave, but still humane and compassionate.” Cloud laughed dryly. “At least, that’s what the company promoters made him out to be.” 

In reality, the general couldn’t carry on a casual conversation if his life depended on it. He could negotiate the terms of an enemy’s surrender in his sleep, but when it came to normal human interaction, he just didn't know how to act.

Even in his own mind, Cloud didn’t see this Sephiroth as the same bitter, destructive man he’d fought in recent years. This early Sephiroth was socially awkward for sure, but not cruel. The two images were impossible to reconcile. “I blamed him for what happened for a long time. But...maybe it wasn’t really his fault,” Cloud said thoughtfully. 

Denzel looked bewildered. “What do you mean? How could it not be his fault? He wasn’t _ordered_ to do all the stuff he did, was he?”

“No, but…well, you know all SOLDIERs are genetically modified with Jenova cells, right?” Cloud tried to explain. “Well, usually it was something they worked for, something they chose for themselves. But with Sephiroth…they put these cells in Sephiroth before he was even born. They raised him like he was a science project.” 

Cloud lowered his head thoughtfully, trying to sort through the disjointed emotions in his mind. He had finally reached a point where he could examine them objectively. There was disgust for the company who treated a child like an object; sorrow for the child himself who never knew love; awe for the man who, even after everything he had done to them, Cloud still admired; and the sharp sting of betrayal from someone he had trusted.

He lifted his eyes to the fire. “He never had a chance to be anything but what they made him,” he said softly.

“But that doesn’t excuse what he did!” Denzel interjected.

Lost in his own revelations, Cloud was surprised by Denzel’s outburst. He studied the boy across the fire, beginning to wonder if Denzel was old enough to hear this after all. “Denzel, everything isn’t always black and white. I’m not sure if… if you’re ready to hear the truth.”

Denzel’s soft blue eyes flared in anger. “I’m not a kid anymore, Cloud!”

“No,” Cloud said, more to himself than anything. “No, you’re right. It’s me. I don’t think _I’m_ ready for you to hear the truth.”

The anger on Denzel’s face faded, replaced with confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Cloud shook his head. He was living a lie – a lie of omission, told with good intentions, but a lie nonetheless. Denzel deserved the truth.

“Never mind, Denz. I told you I would tell you the whole story, and I will.” Cloud bent one leg and rested his arm on the knee. “Anyway, I went to join SOLDIER and meet my hero. But I uh…” Cloud rubbed the back of his neck. After all these years, all the things he’d overcome, he still felt the sting of humiliation. “I failed the entrance exam to SOLDIER.”

He sighed heavily and looked up. “So I joined the infantry instead. Sometimes we were sent as backup for missions led by SOLDIERs. That’s where I met Zack.” The first real ghost of a smile surfaced on Cloud’s face. “At first I was a little intimidated by him. Zack was everything I wanted to be. He was the youngest first class SOLDIER ever. But once I got to know him, it was impossible not to like him.”

He focused on Denzel over the fire. “That picture you drew…that was Zack. He was my best friend. The big brother I never had. He taught me how to fight. He taught me about the city. And he taught me that I shouldn’t take life so seriously.” A barrage of memories swept over Cloud and he closed his eyes, watching them like a film strip.

_*Flash* Sitting on the couch in Zack’s dorm, laughing at his imitation of President Shinra’s strutting walk and nasally voice_

_*Flash* Zack standing over him with his hand out to help him up from the training room floor, patiently explaining where he’d left an opening and how to fix it_

_*Flash* The indulgent frown on Angeal’s face when he walked into the kitchen to find Zack and Cloud covered in food and wrestling on the floor, changed to shock when Zack hurled a handful of whipped cream to smack him in the face_

_*Flash* Lying on the fake grass of the courtyard next to Zack, staring up at the sky and dreaming about their future, which always included Cloud in first class_

_*Flash* Zack screaming his name when Cloud was dragged away in restraints…._

Cloud gasped and opened his eyes, abruptly cutting off the stream of memories. That was why he didn’t like to talk about Zack. The good memories never came without a price, and that price was too steep for him. The brief comfort he’d felt remembering Zack was tainted with the bitterness and fear of the worst days of his life. He could still hear the screams, taste the bitter tang of mako in the air-

“Umm…Cloud? Are you ok?”

Cloud blinked rapidly and focused on the teenager across the fire. “Yeah. I just…sorry. I got lost in memories for a minute.”

Denzel nodded, waiting patiently for Cloud to continue.

Cloud rubbed his eyes and tried to remember where he was going with the story. “So anyway, we were assigned this mission to investigate the Nibelheim reactor – led by General Sephiroth, First Class Zackary Fair, and two infantry.” He remembered how excited Zack had been when he told him about it. Zack had convinced the director to assign Cloud as one of the infantry because he was familiar with the area and the locals, who tended to be less than welcoming of Shinra personnel. They conveniently neglected to tell them that Cloud wasn't exactly trusted there, either.

“While we were there investigating the reactor, Sephiroth learned some things about his past. About...the experiments that made him. He just...lost it.” Cloud’s face darkened. “He killed Tifa’s father. He burned down Nibelheim and everyone in it. My mom...my neighbors...” His breath caught as the echoes of screams – anguished, helpless, terrified – rang through his memory. He remembered the searing heat, the paralyzing fear, the disbelief that Sephiroth... _Sephiroth_...had done this.

He pushed the pain out of the way with anger. “Tifa tried to confront him and he tossed her aside like she was nothing. Never in a million years did I think she would survive, but…” Cloud shook his head with a faint smile. “Well, back then I didn’t realize how tough she is. Zack and I tried to stop him, too…he was completely insane and stronger than anyone could imagine.”

His fingers unconsciously traced over the large scar on his torso. “We managed to stop him, but we were both badly wounded. And I thought—“ Cloud laughed bitterly. “I thought, at least we would die heroes. Zack had always said we would be heroes someday. And we had stopped General Sephiroth from tearing apart Shinra…from tearing apart the whole Planet. Why wouldn’t we be?”

Cloud gritted his teeth and his eyes narrowed. “Shinra came. We thought we were saved. We thought that instead of _dying_ as heroes, we’d be celebrated while we were still alive. I was pretty out of it and I don’t remember everything that happened, but I wasn’t worried when they showed up, you know?” The jumble of impressions in his memory made little sense to him, even knowing what he knew now.

“The next thing I remember, I woke up on a table being examined by a man in a white coat, in more pain than I ever thought possible." Unconsciously, Cloud crossed his arms over his torso and leaned forward, huddling into himself. "I thought he was going to give me something for the pain after he was done with the examination. He was taking notes on his clipboard and muttering like a madman. He...well. He didn't.”

“Did they give you mako instead of painkillers?” Denzel asked, wide-eyed.

Cloud laughed humorlessly. “Not exactly. See, we thought they would be happy that we had stopped Sephiroth. We were only really thinking of the crazy person he became at the end. But it was Dr. Hojo who found us. He wasn’t a medical doctor; he was a scientist – the head scientist of Shinra. He was willing to do the kind of twisted experiments that Shinra had no problems funding. Dr. Hojo had poured almost 30 years into making Sephiroth the perfect soldier. As far as he was concerned, we didn’t stop a madman; we destroyed his life’s work.”

He hesitated then. Cloud didn’t want to remember the next part. He put his head down and closed his eyes, calling on a skill he had developed over four long years of Hell. He pushed back all of his emotions, forcing them into a deep, dark well in his soul. He secured the lid and lifted his head, focusing on the flickering of the fire. The memories were reduced to facts, read from a report with the same detachment as the soulless lab techs Hojo had hired. His eyes were as flat as his voice as he recounted the story.

“He injected us with modified versions of the Jenova cells that he called S-cells – the same kind he had put into Sephiroth. He didn’t bother to introduce the mako gradually like they do with SOLDIER candidates, though. They just submerged us in it.” This time, without the hindrances of emotion, he recalled the acidic burn of the green liquid.

“Submerged? In pure mako?” Denzel’s jaw dropped. “But…but people can’t survive that! How did you…what happened to… _how?_ ”

Cloud shrugged, still detached from the swirling colors of pain. “I guess it had something to do with the S-cells, but I don’t really care anymore. I survived, and that’s how it got into my blood.”

Without another word, he got up and started gathering the gear they’d had scattered around the camp site. Denzel gaped at him like a fish. “Wait, that’s it? That can’t be the end of the story.”

Cloud didn’t stop what he was doing. “You wanted to know why I have mako eyes. Now you know.”

“Yeah but…what about…how did you get out? What happened to Zack?”

Cloud froze with his back to Denzel. His emotions pulsed, pushing at the lid of the well, but he reached out and slammed it back down in his mind. “Zack died…because he was an idiot,” he said flatly. He picked up the remaining items and walked toward the tent.

“Really, Cloud?” Denzel’s voice was scathing, increasing in volume and intensity before Cloud could disappear into the tent. “ _That’s_ what you want to tell me about your best friend? That he was an idiot? Because for a minute there, I thought you were trying to tell me he was someone _special_.”

The built-up emotions spewed out of the well, raking across his raw soul. “ _He was!”_ Cloud spun around to glare at Denzel. “Don’t you dare talk about him like that, Denzel! You didn’t know him! You don’t know anything about him!” 

Denzel’s chin quivered, but he refused to lower his eyes. He spoke softly. “You’re right. I only know what you’ve told me about him.”

Cloud was thrown off by the quiet calm of Denzel’s words, the simple truth to them. The smell of burning leather reached his nose and he looked down to see the smoke drifting up from his gloves. He dropped the supplies he’d been carrying and curled his hands into fists, pushing back the glowing red on his fingertips that he knew was hidden underneath.

He couldn’t afford to lose control of his emotions, not when he didn’t have complete control of the fire inside him. As if to remind him, a burning ache flared in his gut. The materia seemed to be affecting him in ways that he had yet to figure out, but he had been noticing that his emotions were more volatile and unpredictable than before. And when he lost control of his emotions, he lost control of the fire. He couldn’t let that happen.

Cloud let out a shaky breath and sank down slowly at his place by the fire. As his anger dulled, his mind cleared. Denzel didn’t deserve to be the target of his damaged psyche. “Ok. Ok. I’ll tell you about Zack.”

Denzel gave him a small smile of encouragement and nodded. 

Cloud shoved his hair back with his hands. The numbing well he had constructed had exploded, and the pain of his memories burned through his eyes, but he was determined to get through this. His voice was quiet and measured. “We were stuck in Dr. Hojo’s lab for…I’m not sure exactly how long, but it was more than four years.”

Denzel gasped out loud and quickly clapped his hand over his mouth.

“I wasn’t awake the whole time,” Cloud said, rubbing his temples with his fingers. “But I was for most of it. Zack kept me sane for a while. He talked and talked, about everything and nothing at all, and I knew he was just trying to distract me, but it still helped.” Zack’s voice floated through his head – the joking, the mindless rambling, and finally the begging. Cloud had been retreating into his own mind to escape the pain, cutting his ties to reality, becoming less responsive day by day. That was when Zack had become desperate. He had begged Cloud to stay with him. He had sworn he would get them out of there. He had sworn they would get revenge. He had sworn that he couldn’t survive in there without Cloud. 

Cloud grimaced with the pain of the memory. It was the first time he had heard real fear in his friend’s voice, maybe the first time in that whole nightmare that Zack had let his true feelings show. “Zack was my whole universe in that place. But I was a coward,” he said bitterly. “I just disconnected from reality and left Zack to suffer alone.”

The shame was overwhelming. A single tear slipped from his eye and landed on the ground, soaking in to the dirt before he was aware it had been there at all.

“Zack kept his promise, though. Somehow he broke out.” Cloud’s hands tightened into fists. “He should have just left me. He should have saved himself and escaped. I was just a shell, alive but not really there. There was _no reason_ for him to drag me out of there, but he did. He carried me across two continents, and I was only slowing him down. Shinra caught up to us several times, and every time, he fought them off. He protected me and kept me safe, over and over again.”

Cloud closed his eyes, digging into his deepest memories, and as always, finding only scraps. It had felt like a dream. He had seen Zack through an ocean of turbulent water, talking and gesturing and doing his ridiculous squats. At first he had just watched. He had suspected it was one of Hojo’s tricks, or maybe Jenova’s, and he had no desire to struggle back to the outside world.

But the longer he had watched, the more he had begun to doubt himself. He started to hear words coming through – at first just a few, and then there were whole sentences and whole conversations. It was just so perfectly _Zack_. He didn’t believe Hojo or Jenova was capable of comprehending that kind of pure selflessness, or that either would be able to imitate the endless energy and optimism that was Zack Fair. But still, he hesitated. Even after he started to believe that he was seeing the real Zack, he hesitated. It was safe where he was. The world out there was full of pain and heartache.

But then he had remembered the fear in Zack’s voice when he begged him to stay. He remembered how well Zack had been able to hide his emotions when he was trying to protect him. As he listened to Zack chattering away as if he were having a normal conversation with a coherent person, Cloud tried to imagine how Zack must really feel. The responsibility would be overwhelming, although Zack would never complain. The loneliness would be crippling. He was forced to hide from everyone, never knowing who to trust, never certain he could avoid the sprawling web of Shinra’s influence. And the one person who would understand him, the one person in the world he knew he could trust, was hiding like a coward, tucked in the safety of the shell he had constructed.

Cloud was ashamed. He had been taking advantage of his best friend’s sense of honor and duty, and it needed to stop. He had dived into the water, pushing and kicking his way to the surface, until the brisk fall air had assaulted his skin and he had felt himself being lifted in Zack’s warm arms. _Ride’s over, Cloud._

In front of the campfire, Cloud finally opened his eyes, bringing himself back to the present and meeting the eyes of the boy across the campfire. Denzel had been waiting patiently, and Cloud had no idea what he could be thinking, but his young eyes held no judgement, only compassion.

Cloud swallowed hard and braced himself for the next part of the story. “We had almost reached Midgar the last time they caught up with us. Shinra had sent an entire army this time. Hundreds of men, armed with rifles and grenades. Again, Zack could have escaped on his own, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. He hid me behind some rocks and went out there to face them.”

Cloud had tried so hard to tell him. He wanted to tell him to run, to hide, to do something, _anything_ other than march out there to his death. But it had been so long since he’d spoken, he couldn’t remember how. He had to relearn how to move his body. He was just so tired, and moving was so much work. He really had tried, but as usual, his best wasn’t good enough. He was too slow to stop Zack. 

“By the time I dragged myself out there, the fight was over. He was…” Cloud’s voice cracked, and a few more tears slipped unnoticed to the dry ground. He tilted his head back and stared up at the flawless night sky. “He asked me to live. That was his dying wish…for me to live for both of us. And then he was gone.”

Cloud slowly lowered his head and stared into the flames, watching his best friend die all over again. The pain in his soul was still visceral and real. He had walked away, dragging the buster sword behind him, and soon had convinced himself that Zack had never existed at all. He had reconstructed his memories to be something he could live with. He blotted out the nightmares and remembered himself as he’d always wanted to be – as Zack. As the perfect ex-soldier. It was Tifa who had eventually drawn out his real memories, and Tifa who was there to help him put back the pieces of his shattered self. But a glued vase is never as flawless as the original, never as strong as it once was. A repaired vase will always be fragile.

Finally, Denzel said softly, “that doesn’t sound like an idiot. It sounds very brave.”

Cloud was startled by his voice. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said lowly. “I shouldn’t have called him that. But he should have just left me. He should have given me up as a lost cause and saved himself.” His voice grew rougher. “He would have stopped Sephiroth when he came back. He would have been able to protect Aerith. He would never have let so many people die, or the Planet get so destroyed.”

“You don’t know that,” Denzel said with a frown.

Cloud scoffed, but didn’t elaborate any further. A moment later, he was surprised to feel Denzel’s arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

“I’m glad he didn’t give up on you, Cloud,” Denzel whispered.

Cloud blinked rapidly, suddenly aware of the tears built up behind his eyes and slipping down his face. He wiped at them roughly, hoping Denzel hadn’t noticed. He _never_ let himself cry in front of anyone anymore, not since Hojo’s scathing words had ripped through his tender young ego.

He looked down at the wavy brown hair tucked under his chin. Maybe Tifa wasn’t the only glue he had. Slowly, he raised his arms and hugged Denzel back.

***** 

Denzel laid awake in his sleeping bag, staring at the canvas ceiling. Cloud was still sitting out by the fire, not moving. The shame was coming off of him in palpable waves, and Denzel just didn’t understand. At first it had been hard to believe the details as Cloud filled them in like the shading of a familiar drawing. The shading was just _wrong_ – it was like a bad remake of a great movie, where the villain turns out to be tragically misunderstood and the hero’s motives impure. But in a way, this new dimension made the story more real to his more mature brain. 

Sephiroth was a real person with dreams and a sense of self, which had been completely shattered in one traumatic week. It didn’t make Denzel hate the man any less, but at least he understood him as a human being. And of course the mastermind-behind-the-villain had been introduced: Dr. Hojo. What kinds of horrible things had he put Cloud through over four long years? It was a nightmare, bookended on both sides by the loss of the most important people in his life.

Cloud and Tifa had both been orphaned that night in Nibelheim. The pain in Cloud’s eyes, still fresh and raw, had felt like a bolt of electricity straight to Denzel’s heart. His own parents had been killed when the plate over sector 7 collapsed, and it still hurt to remember them. He had never even thought about Cloud or Tifa having parents, or the fact that maybe they understood him better than he knew. Why had he never bothered to wonder about their pasts, outside of the stories that had made them famous?

He didn’t become Cloud Strife, Savior of the Planet, Hero of Midgar, by coasting through the ranks of Shinra, using Mako to gain an unfair advantage. He had battled weakness and helplessness and loss. He had lived through Hell and come out the other side forged by fire, stronger than he was before. As far as Denzel was concerned, that made him more of a hero, not less.

So why did Cloud carry it around like a burden of shame?

*****

Cloud had never imagined that he’d have children. He had never wanted to. How could he possibly raise another human being to be a secure, reliable adult, when he had never felt like one himself? But Marlene and Denzel had come into his life anyway, lost souls in need of guidance. He had assumed Tifa would be the one to take care of them, the same way she took care of everyone. He had disappeared without a word to anyone when he had started seeing symptoms of Geostigma, never once thinking of how his absence would affect them – only knowing how his presence would.

Of course it was inevitable that they would see Tifa as a mother figure, but he never saw himself as anything more than a drifter in their lives. He wasn’t fit to be anything more. So why was everyone so upset when he disappeared? Why did Marlene act like he was abandoning them? He wasn’t supposed to be a stable or permanent part of their lives. But whether he wanted it or not, he couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t grown to care for them. He couldn’t convince himself that their faces didn’t light up when he walked through the door, or that he didn’t feel lighter when he saw their smiles. And sometime, when he wasn’t looking, they had come to see him like a father.

Denzel was looking less like a child every day. Cloud had started feeling like he was living a lie, letting Denzel believe the fairy tale version of him, but now he was afraid that things would never be the same again. How could he trust Cloud to protect him, knowing that he had failed the only person in his universe who had mattered to him at that time?

When Cloud finally came in that night, Denzel had fallen asleep on his sketch pad again. The lantern had been left burning and the oil was getting low. Cloud blew out the burning wick and gently pulled the sketch pad out from under Denzel’s limp hand. His enhanced eyes didn’t need the lantern to see what he was doing, and they picked out the details of the sketch easily.

It was another picture of Cloud with the flames in his hands, similar to the one he had seen before, but several details had been added to the sketch. Three new people had appeared behind him – Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel. Looking at them gave him a feeling of warmth and security, as if the drawing itself were radiating feelings. Cloud himself was no longer flawless, but clearly scarred and bruised. His clothes were torn and dirty. Even so, he didn’t look weak or injured. He looked strong, vibrant, and fierce.

The people who stood behind him could clearly see his scars. And they still believed in him.

*****

** Day 5 **

“Hang on,” Cloud called over his shoulder as they sped down the dusty trail.

“What do you think I’ve been—” Denzel’s sharp retort was cut off as the bike swerved sharply to the right and he slid off the side. He braced himself to hit the ground, but an arm reached back and shoved him roughly back onto the seat. 

Denzel tried to anchor himself around Cloud’s waist before he slid all the way off the other side. The bike swerved in the other direction, narrowly avoiding another beast attempting to impale them on its thick horns. 

Denzel laughed nervously. “That was cl—whoa!”

Up ahead, coming fast from the southwest, a pack of bandersnatches charged straight for them, on a path to intercept the speeding motorcycle. The steep side of a cliff rose up to the east, and they were running out of room to dodge the animals. Cloud held out his left fist and it began to glow red. He opened it and thrust out his arm, sending a burst of flame into the pack, cutting through the middle and turning the bulk of the animals into yelping, rolling balls of burning fur. They immediately abandoned their charge and put all their attention on subduing the flames, causing most of the remaining pack behind them to stumble over their burning brothers. Their dry, coarse hair caught immediately and they peeled off from the pack as well. 

About a quarter of the animals had escaped the inferno, still undeterred in their pursuit. They were about to cut off the bike, and Fenrir had nowhere to go.

Cloud leaned forward and bore straight ahead. A hiss and a popping sound indicated that the compartments holding Tsurugi had opened, but Denzel had already tucked his head against Cloud’s back, bracing for an impact. It never came. The animals in the direct line of the tires leapt up and were sliced cleanly from the air, one after the other. A shower of hot, sticky blood rained down on both of them, and a trail of limp beasts fell to the ground behind the bike. 

Denzel let out a cheer, even as he tried to shield his face from the worst of the blood. “Whoohoohoo! Cloud that was so cool! You shot that fire like – AGH!” His exhilarated laugh was cut short by a sharp pain on his leg. He looked down at the teeth sunk into his calf, shaking his leg as hard as he could, but the animal refused to let go. The heel of a big black boot was hammered into its face, and the creature let out a piercing yelp as it flew back. 

Cloud glanced over his shoulder at Denzel. “Are you ok?”

Denzel didn’t answer.

Cloud was still trying to dodge the remainder of the bandersnatches from the pack. They were fast, and they kept up with Fenrir, leaping to attack anytime they got close enough. He struck down any who came within reach of his sword.

“Denzel! Are you ok back there?”

The only response was the sound of Skoll being unsheathed. Cloud risked a longer glance back. Denzel’s eyes were glazed and bloodshot, moving randomly from side to side. Cloud swore and brought back his sword just in time to block Denzel’s strike. With the force of the swing and its abrupt stop, Denzel lost his hold on the bike and flew off the back, rolling in the dirt as Cloud skidded to a stop.

The bandersnatches didn’t hesitate to take advantage of their vulnerable prey. They leapt onto the boy on the ground. Cloud jumped off the bike and charged at them, but Denzel wasn’t too injured to fight back. His sword swung around, knocking the beasts back enough for him to get back up to his feet.

Impressed despite his worry, Cloud began helping him dispatch the remainder of the pack, keeping a second sword out to block Denzel’s occasional attacks against him. Yelping and snarling filled the air and furry bodies flew in every direction. When the pack had dwindled enough that Cloud wasn’t surrounded by enemies, he merged his swords again, trying to fend off both Denzel and the rest of the snatches with one hand for long enough to pull a Remedy from the supplies at his belt.

Just as he pulled out the bottle, Denzel slashed himself across the chest with his sword. He screamed and fell to the ground. Stowing the bottle, Cloud made quick work of the last few beasts and then returned to his side. Denzel’s face was white, sweat beading on his face, eyes wide.

Cloud knelt on the ground by his head. His voice was calm and confident. “Denz, you’ve got the restore materia. Can you handle a cure or do you want me to take it?”

Denzel blinked rapidly and shook his head. “I can do it. Let me try.” He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. A faint green glow emanated from his bracer. Thin tendrils of skin from both sides of the wound reached out to form a bridge across the gaping slash, and the bleeding slowed.

Cloud examined the wound. It had only created a partial binding. “Do it again. It’s not completely healed.”

The green glow was slightly brighter this time. The wound sealed itself up, leaving only a faint pink line where it had been, and the blood he had already lost smeared across his chest.

Cloud held out a hand and helped him sit up. “You ok?”

Denzel nodded shakily. “I’m ok.” 

Cloud went to push his hair back, noticing just in time the streaks of blood that had dripped down to his gloves. He made a face and knelt on the ground to wipe the worst of it in the grass.

“Hey, Cloud?”

“Hm?” He continued wiping at the grass with his gloves.

“Did I…um…did I attack you?”

Cloud glanced up at him. “You tried.”

“And then…did I hit myself?”

“Yup.”

Deciding he had gotten the worst of the gore from his gloves, Cloud stood up and removed them, dropping them in the grass. He pulled the goggles off his head, searching for a clean place on his shirt to wipe them. He finally settled for the inside of the shirt, getting his hand covered in slimy blood, but the goggles more or less clean. He wiped his hands on the back of his pants, which had been mostly protected against the seat of the bike.

Denzel stared at Cloud without really absorbing what he was seeing. It was terrifying to think that for a few brief moments, he had forgotten who was the enemy. Cloud had taught him about status effects at one point in his lessons, but it had been brief. Besides that, hearing about it didn’t compare at all to _experiencing_ it. He had absolutely no idea that there was anything wrong with him until the effect had worn off. It felt as natural as anything to attack Cloud. What if he had really hurt someone? He wasn’t too worried about hurting Cloud, but what if it had happened when Marlene was there? Or anyone else, really. He was strong and skilled enough now that he could accidentally hurt just about anyone if he had a sword in his hand. The thought haunted him.

Cloud finally stopped wiping his hands and looked up. Denzel’s face was pale again. Cloud sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around Denzel’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Cloud said as he gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Bandersnatch bites cause confusion. Happens to all of us.”

Denzel shrugged. “It doesn’t happen to you,” he mumbled.

“It has before,” Cloud said seriously. “Before I found my ribbon.” Denzel looked up, wondering if Cloud was about to tell him about a string of accidental murders on his conscience.

“Yeah, my instructor was really ticked,” he said with a straight face. “He said it was the worst headache he’d had in years.”

A laugh bubbled up out of Denzel. “A headache?”

“Well, yeah,” Cloud said. “You think they give actual deadly weapons to cadets? I was pretty popular for a while after that, though. The guy was kind of a jerk.”

Denzel looked at him suspiciously. “Are you sure you were actually confused?”

Cloud grinned wickedly. “I’ll never tell.”

Denzel laughed and stood up. He grimaced at the tacky blood drying on his skin – his own now mixed with the bandersnatch blood that had drenched them. “I don’t suppose you have a travel-size shower in one of those compartments.”

Cloud looked sadly at Fenrir. “Ah, no. But there’s a river a few miles from here. If you can stand it for a little while longer, I can find us a place near water to stop for lunch.”

Denzel wiped a large chunk of gore from the side of the bike. “At least we’ve already caught our lunch,” he said, flicking it at Cloud. 

It stuck in his blood-soaked spikes and he made a face, extracting it from his hair. “Now that you mention it, I’m not all that hungry right now.” He tossed away the gore and stood up. 

It was close to half an hour later before they came across the river Cloud had mentioned, and he refused to stop until they found a wide enough section of the stream with only flat terrain around it. By that time, their clothes were almost dried stiff. The sun was cooking the remaining gore, making the smell nearly unbearable. He stopped the bike and turned it off.

Denzel put his feet on solid ground and pulled at the hem of his shirt, considering how to best get it off with the least amount of nastiness getting on his face.

He heard a splash and he looked up, startled. Cloud was already in the water, all of his clothes still on.

Denzel raised his eyebrows as Cloud surfaced. “Do you always bathe with your clothes on?”

“Naw, but this right here is a high-tech shower slash washing machine in one!” Cloud sounded like an excitable late-night infomercial host. “Watch and learn.” He dunked his head underwater and swam to a narrowed area of the river where the current was strongest. When he stood, the vivid red in his hair had been diluted to a muted pink. He held out his arms and twisted his body from side to side like an agitator, watching the red flowing downstream. He grinned over at Denzel. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You should give it a try.”

Denzel laughed. He stepped in from the edge gingerly, letting the water soften his stiff pants.

Cloud scoffed. “Weren’t you watching the demo? That’s not how you use the product. Here, let me help you.”

Before Denzel could register what was happening, he had been tackled by a flying, soaking wet body and had his head dunked under the water. He came up sputtering, at which point Cloud wrapped his arms around him and lifted his feet from the ground, swishing his body from side to side in the current.

Denzel laughed and squirmed from his grasp, attempting to dunk Cloud, but he may as well have been trying to push a tree out of the ground. Denzel circled around behind him and jumped on his back, tugging and trying to throw him off balance. Cloud raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, watching his struggles with an amused smirk. 

With a huff, Denzel gave up dropped off his back, circling back around to the front. Cloud watched him warily as the boy faced him. Without warning, Denzel bent his knees and launched his arms forward and up, splashing a wave of water over Cloud’s head. Cloud tried to cover his head with his arms, but all the strength in the world couldn’t defend him from the non-stop barrage of splashing. Denzel continued heaping water on him until he felt a foot hook around his ankles, pulling him under.

When he popped his head back above the water, Cloud was grinning and holding up a hand. “Truce?”

Denzel grabbed the hand and let Cloud pull him to his feet. “For now,” he said with a coy grin. He launched onto his back and paddled lazily downstream.

Cloud removed his gloves and swished them under the water, and then shook off the excess. He tossed them onto the shore and then unzipped his shirt and peeled it off, swishing it under water until it seemed reasonably gore-free. He wrung it out and then tossed it on the shore with his gloves. Denzel shrugged and started to copy him. He took off his boots and most of his outer layer of clothes, but he had lived all his life surrounded by people and didn’t have the nerve to wander around outside completely naked.

Cloud had no such qualms, however. Once every piece of his clothing was in a wet heap on the shore, he swam with smooth strokes against the current, forgetting about the long drive they still had ahead, the troubles awaiting them back in Edge, and that other problem that he was trying hard not to think about.

In the meantime, Denzel had climbed out of the water, gathered up their wet clothes, and spread them out on a rock to dry in the sun. The warm heat on his back was soothing.

“Hey! Denzel! Come check this out!”

Denzel followed the voice around a bend in the river, to a copse of trees just on the other side of the flowing water. The area was completely in the shadows, and goosebumps broke out on his still-damp skin as he ducked into an opening in the greenery. The inside reminded him of a secret hideout he had imagined when he was younger, where he and Marlene had endless adventures in which they were always the heroes and the villains were always brought to justice.

Inside this shadowed grove was a small pond. It looked like it had been part of the river at one time, but the patch of ground connecting it had cut it off during a dry season. Now it was completely separate, a quiet little independent body of water almost completely surrounded by trees. Except it wasn’t exactly quiet. Cloud was drifting near the middle and there were bubbles popping up behind his back.

“Dude! What the heck are you doing?” Denzel called, laughing.

Cloud looked at him with an expression of pure innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Gods, did you really call me over here to watch you stink up the grove? I thought you were supposed to be the adult!”

Cloud grinned from his place in the middle of the pond, and the bubbles started to grow in size and intensity until they were completely surrounding him. It looked like he was being boiled in a pot of water. 

“Wait a minute… are you…” Denzel poked a toe in the edge of the water. It was warm. “No way!” He plunged in the rest of the way, soothing his chills with the rapidly heating water. “Aww man this is amazing!” He stretched his body out along the gently sloping floor of the pond, letting the heat ease the ache of days spent bouncing along the uneven path and sleeping on the rocky ground.

After the water was hot enough to be almost uncomfortable, Cloud swam over and found a place next to Denzel where he could sit up, submerged to his shoulders. “Never thought we’d find our own hot springs on this trip, eh? Tifa’s gonna be so jealous that she missed out.”

Denzel grinned at him. “Definitely one of the perks to having superpowers.” He shifted onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow, keeping his face just above the water. His eyes were eager. “So when did you figure out you could do this?”

“Hmm.” Cloud scratched his head. “I guess it was a couple weeks after the accident. I grabbed Tifa’s leg and she yelped. I burned her.”

“Really?” Denzel asked, trying to picture it. “What happened? What were you doing?”

“Uhh…sparring.”

“Sparring? You burned right through your gloves?”

“Erm, no, I wasn’t wearing them.” Cloud looked distracted, staring up at the trees.

“But you always wear your gloves when you’re sparring.”

Cloud turned to look him in the eyes. “Denzel. Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”

Denzel blinked a couple times. “Oh. Right.” He shook his head and forcefully redirected his thoughts. “So then what? You just started seeing what you could do?”

Cloud shrugged and settled back into the water. “More or less. First I needed to learn how to control it. I didn’t know how I was doing it; it just happened when I was angry or…you know…feeling some strong emotion. I started working on it in the training room, learning how to create an actual flame and throw it and stuff. And then something weird happened.”

“Weirder than making flame appear in your hands?”

“Well, maybe equally weird,” Cloud grinned. “The materia inside me started to get stronger. I can cast Fira now, and I think I’ve almost got Firaga. I didn’t think it could be leveled when it was broken, but…well, I didn’t think I would be able to use it to cast, either.” He pushed his wet hair back with his hands, making it stick up even more comically than usual. 

“Oh, and check this out!” he blurted excitedly as he sat up. He held up his hands and a reddish pulse started from his wrists, moving up through his palms. The red glow slid up through his thumb until it reached the end, and then a tiny flame popped out and stayed lit on the tip. He did this with each finger in turn, until 10 little flames danced in front of his face. With the combination of his mad-scientist hair and burning fingertips, he truly looked like he crawled out of one of the comic books Denzel used to keep under his bed.

Denzel laughed until his stomach hurt. “What else can you do? Can you shoot streams in the air?”

“Psh. That’s cake.” Cloud shot a stream straight up from one hand, keeping a constant flame burning.

“That’s just one stream. Can you do a bunch?”

“Oh,” Cloud said. He screwed up his face in concentration and held up his right hand, moving the red glow up through his fingers until 5 little streams shot from his fingers. He waved his hand and the five streams leaned from side to side as they followed behind his moving fingers.

Denzel laughed and clapped. “Can you make shapes in the air? Like a dragon? What about between your hands?” 

He made requests for Cloud and then tried to stay quiet as he watched the normally serious man screw up his face in concentration. He was pretty sure Cloud was just making the faces for his entertainment, because he was having just as much trouble trying not to laugh as he did it.

“Are your hands the only place you can send it from?”

The goofy expression slipped off Cloud’s face. “Well, that’s where I have the most control over the fire.”

“Yeah, but what about your feet?” Denzel urged. “What if you’re like…barefoot for some reason…and your hands are busy?” He giggled at the mental picture of Cloud balancing on one foot, swinging two swords and kicking fire from his other foot.

“Um, yeah, I’m sure that will happen,” Cloud said with a grin. Nevertheless, he propped one calf on the opposite knee and concentrated on the toes pointing up in the air. He pursed his lips and squinted and generally just looked constipated, but the red was slowly moving up his foot. Eventually, it reached the tips and puffed out one little burst of flame. The red receded quickly as Denzel cheered.

“What else? Try something else new!” Denzel demanded.

“Like what? Elbows? Knees? Seems like more of the same thing,” Cloud said with a shrug.

“What about…ooh! Can you _breathe_ fire?” Denzel asked with a gleam in his eye.

“I don’t know. Let’s see,” Cloud said. He sat up and a serious look came over his face, like he was actually trying to focus instead of just being goofy.

“Um, Cloud, I was just joking,” Denzel said nervously. “I don’t think you should really try that.”

Cloud ignored him, continuing to focus. Denzel’s mouth dropped as he saw the red tint shining through Cloud’s neck. It sped up and out, Cloud opening his mouth just in time to spurt out a belch of flame. His eyes grew wide and he dunked his face quickly into the water with a sizzle.

“Cloud!” Denzel yelled, moving himself as quickly as possible in the water to get to Cloud’s side.

But Cloud came up laughing and spitting out the water he’d plunged into too quickly. “Whoo! That was a lot faster than I expected.”

Denzel felt the tension leave his body as his nervous laughter joined Cloud’s. “So you can breathe fire. But…you probably shouldn’t do that again.”

They talked for hours. Cloud periodically swam to the center of the pond to reheat the water, and idly played with the flames as they discussed swords and fighting styles and plans for modifications to Fenrir. Denzel talked about school and friends and all the attention he had gotten after the town invasion. “Honestly, I was just getting sick of being followed everywhere I went. I pretended I had to pee like 20 times a day just so I could get a breather from the girls.”

Cloud smirked. “Only girls in your fan club?”

Denzel sighed dramatically. “Well, no, but the guys just followed me in and kept asking questions. I couldn’t really escape them.”

“Ooh. Awkward,” Cloud said sympathetically.

“Tell me about it,” Denzel sighed. “I finally had to tell them about my horribly contagious disease that I was afraid of spreading to them. It didn’t faze the really dedicated fans, but at least it thinned them out enough so I could breathe.”

Cloud laughed out loud as Denzel told him how he had explained his disease in grisly detail to a group of clingy teenagers.

“Some of them didn’t believe me, so I have this one friend who is really artistic, and I had him paint a bunch of really nasty-looking sores on me. I put flour on my face so I’d look pale and sickly all day. The next day, a handful of my followers had identical-looking sores all over. They wore them like a badge of honor to show their dedication.”

Cloud laughed even harder, plunging his hands under the water with a sizzle as he struggled to get himself under control. The kid was really a gifted storyteller, and he had a contagious laugh that was enough to set Cloud off again every time he managed to calm down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like this.

Denzel studied his companion in the dimming sunlight. “How come you don’t have that problem? You’re actually, like, famous, and people don’t hound you constantly.”

“Mm.” Cloud nodded. “Why do you think I bought Fenrir in the first place?” He smiled wryly, but Denzel had a feeling he was actually serious. “It was pretty bad in the beginning. Sometimes I told them to buzz off, but mostly I just ignored them if I couldn’t escape. I think eventually most of them decided I was a jerk and left me alone. There were a few stalker-type women that couldn’t take a hint, but…”

“But what?” Denzel prodded. 

Cloud’s eyes twinkled brighter as the sun sank below the tree line. “Tifa put the fear of Shiva in them.”

Denzel’s mouth dropped. “That didn’t happen.”

“It did.” Cloud grinned. “I don’t think she _seriously_ injured anyone. Just a few broken bones, you know, little stuff like that.” He scooted back to the bank and put his hands behind his head. “Besides, it’s not all bad. I got the girl, didn’t I?”

“You mean Tifa? What, she was attracted to your fame?” Denzel asked skeptically.

Cloud snorted. “Heck, no. She was just as annoyed by it as I was. Mostly we just got closer traveling and fighting together, but it gave me the courage to finally go for it. What about you? That girl you had a date with this week – the timing seems awfully convenient, right in the middle of your seven minutes of fame.”

Denzel was glad that the light was fading. He hoped Cloud couldn’t see the pink tint of his cheeks, but the way the corners of Cloud’s lips curled up, it was unlikely. Denzel wrapped his arms around his knees, turning his head away bashfully. “Well, she did say that it sounded cool. So I guess it made her notice me, at least.”

“So what’s she like? What do you like about her?”

“Umm..” Alicia’s face, which he had memorized down to the tiniest detail, materialized in Denzel’s mind. “She has long black hair and the prettiest green eyes. She twirls her hair around her finger when she’s nervous, and she bites her lip when she’s concentrating, and she always bounces her left knee in class when we’re taking a test. And she has this really dark freckle, right here.” Denzel touched the apple of his cheek lightly. “And I guess I just like the way she smiles.” He shrugged shyly.

“Uh huh.” Cloud stared at him, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.

“What?” Denzel asked, glaring back at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” The smile widened and Denzel shoved his shoulder. “Dude! You’re creeping me out!”

Cloud laughed out loud. “You’ve got it bad, kid.”

“Oh shut up,” Denzel grumbled, but he couldn’t seem to wipe the goofy smile off his face, either.

“Well, I’m turning into a prune,” Cloud announced. “I’m getting out.” He pulled himself out of the water and stretched, totally at ease with his nudity.

“Dude!” Denzel hissed, looking away quickly. “Are you just going to wander around like that? What if someone comes along and sees you?”

Cloud laughed out loud and spread his arms wide, looking more relaxed than Denzel had seen him in a very long time. “Who’s going to come along, city boy? We’re in the middle of nowhere!” He ducked through the opening in the trees and disappeared. 

Denzel shook his head, smiling. It had been a long time since he had seen Cloud in a playful mood and he wasn’t going to be the one to spoil it. The pond was starting to get chilly though, and his hot water heater had left him, so he grudgingly got up from his comfy bed of sand.

When he got back to the campsite, Cloud was already dressed in dry clothes and rubbing his hair with a towel. There was a fire burning, but he hadn’t bothered to set up camp otherwise. 

“I’ll get the tent,” Denzel said, wrapping a towel around his shivering body. He was seriously starting to regret his decision to keep his underclothes on. The damp material was soaking through his towel and dripping water down his legs.

“Why bother?” Cloud asked. “It’s a nice night. Why don’t we sleep under the stars tonight?”

“Yeah? Ok,” Denzel said with a smile. He grabbed his pack from Fenrir and retreated behind some trees to change out of his wet clothes. Cloud had never said anything about his shyness, and Denzel was grateful. Sometimes middle school locker room incidents really stuck with you.

Once he was in dry clothes, he returned to the campsite to find Cloud warming up their food and realized he was ravenous. They had forgotten all about lunch after spending the whole day playing in the water. Denzel felt a flutter of guilt as he sat down by the fire. “We didn’t cover much ground today.”

Cloud shrugged. “Yeah. You in a hurry to get back? You still have a couple days before school starts again.”

“Uh, not really,” Denzel said uncomfortably.

“Ohhh, I see,” Cloud said, eyeing him.

“What?” Denzel asked, trying to hide his alarm. There was no way Cloud could have guessed about the sketch, was there?

Cloud crossed his arms and leaned back against the tree behind him with a smirk. “You want to get back to see Alicia.”

Denzel forced a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Kinda.” And it was true, wasn’t it? He had no idea when or even if there would be some kind of disaster in Edge. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that the sketch hadn’t come from a vision at all. He had forced it because he wanted so badly to make his ability work when he wanted it. 

Suddenly, Cloud grimaced and grabbed at his stomach.

Denzel sat up. “Cloud? Are you ok?”

Cloud shook his head and leaned back again. “Yeah. Just some weird, random pain.”

“Hm,” Denzel said, studying him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Cloud said, waving him away. He sat up and stirred the pans over the fire. “This looks warm. Ready to eat? Oh wait, stupid question,” Cloud said without waiting for an answer. “You’re always ready to eat.”

Denzel snorted. “Like you’re one to talk.”

*****

Their sleeping bags were laid out on opposite sides of the fire, but angled so that their heads were near each other. They laid on top of their respective bedding, the night warm enough that they didn’t need to be covered. Cloud was on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up into the night sky. Denzel lay on his stomach with his head turned to one side, resting his cheek on his arms.

They had started off with Denzel asking Cloud about his childhood, but had gradually moved into talking about their shared past. 

“Tifa says she’s glad you’re training me, but she always seems to find some excuse to keep me from actually fighting monsters,” Denzel complained.

“Yeah, well, she worries about you,” Cloud said.

“Well, it’s stupid,” Denzel retorted. “I mean, what’s the point of even learning if she doesn’t want me to use it?”

“It’s not that she doesn’t want you to use it,” Cloud said cautiously. “It’s just that she doesn’t want anything to…uh…attack you back.”

Denzel scoffed. “So she actually _does_ want me to battle trees, then?”

Cloud laughed out loud. “Well no, because then you’d be attacking something that means you no harm.”

“Ugh! I just can’t win!” Denzel announced dramatically.

Cloud rolled over onto his stomach and rested his chin on his hands, looking at Denzel. “Denz, do you remember when you first came to live with us?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Denzel said. “I mean, I remember when you found me at the church. I remember when you left us.”

Cloud swallowed and looked guilty. “Um…yeah. Well, back then, you were really small and really sick. Tifa has this need to take care of everyone, you know? But no matter what she did, she couldn’t make you better. We were just watching you fade away, and it was killing her that she couldn’t do anything about it.”

Denzel sighed. He felt a little bad, knowing that he had upset Tifa like that, but it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it. “But then I got better! And she still acts like I need to be protected all the time. It’s really annoying, Cloud.”

Cloud gave a small smile and brushed some hair away from Denzel’s eyes. “Tifa’s just –“

The shrill music of Cloud’s ringtone interrupted their discussion. They both sat up immediately. It was extremely late – too late for anyone to call with anything but bad news.

Cloud snatched up the phone. “Tifa?”

The noise in the background was so loud that Cloud held the phone away from his hear. Denzel could clearly hear everything coming through the phone. “ _Cloud!_ ” Tifa shouted over the din. “ _Are you guys getting close to Edge?_ ”

“What? Why? What’s going on?” Cloud’s voice was calm, but Denzel had gotten very good at reading the subtle changes in Cloud’s eyes over the last week, and this one wasn’t subtle. He was worried.

“ _There’s something – I don’t know what_. _There are monsters overrunning the town. I’m fighting off as many as I can, but…”_

“How many?” Cloud asked calmly. “Is the wall completely smashed, or is there a small section that can be repaired?”

_“Hundreds,”_ Tifa said. _“And…it isn’t.”_

Cloud pushed back a mop of spikes with his hand, looking grim. But surely it was some kind of misunderstanding. Tifa wasn’t making sense. 

“It isn’t broken anywhere,” Cloud said, sounding resigned but not surprised.

_“It’s not,”_ Tifa confirmed. _“No one knows how they got in.”_

Cloud’s face hardened into what Denzel liked to think of as ‘commander mode _’_. He jumped to his feet and started rolling up his sleeping bag with one hand. “Ok. We’re not close, but we’ll be there as soon as we can. Try and get everyone who can’t fight into the town hall. Organize anyone capable with weapons and send them out in groups. Find someone who can triage and have Marlene heal the worst cases. And call in our old crew.“

_“Our old—“_ Tifa gasped. _“Cloud, it will take them at least 12 hours to get here. I’m sure once you get here, we can handle it.”_

Cloud didn’t answer her. He handed the empty pots to Denzel. “Go fill these up in the river and dump them on the fire. We have to go.” He finished packing up their supplies as Tifa connected the dots. 

_“You…you aren’t going to be back that soon, are you?”_ she asked, speaking slowly.

“No. We’re not. I can’t drive that fast with Denzel, Teef. We’re almost a full day out.”

_“Tifa!”_ Marlene’s voice rang out from the background. _“They’re starting in on the town hall. The stupid people inside won’t keep the door shut! They’re complaining about it being too hot in there.”_

Tifa sighed audibly. It sounded like she was running. _“Why is it so hard to understand that monsters are attracted to smell?”_

Of course Tifa had already done most of what Cloud had thought of. He was the leader by default, but Tifa was master of organization, and she wouldn’t have called for help unless she really thought that they couldn’t handle it without him. The town hall had been reinforced for just such an event, but even that building could only take so much punishment. Even as she held onto the phone, they could hear snarling and screeching as her kicks and punches landed.

_“I have to go. Please hurry, Cloud.”_

The phone clicked as it disconnected. Cloud hooked it onto the handlebars as he and Denzel climbed on Fenrir. The tires spun in the dirt as they left behind their little slice of paradise.


	7. The Crumbling Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in getting this out! I planned to put it up weeks ago, but...life happens. Thank you all for your amazing comments and support! I promise I'll try to be better about getting the remaining chapters out.

Marlene was frazzled. She had been healing wounded townspeople for over 12 hours with virtually no breaks. She had been working on her capacity (or "magic points" as Tifa called them) and was much stronger than when she had first started training, but she had run through her magic points several times over already. Tifa had a limited supply of ether, but the local apothecary had donated everything in his stock to keep her going after she had healed his grievously injured wife. They had already burned through all of his phoenix downs, and the supply of potions and hi-potions were being carefully rationed by a matronly woman named Eleanor Joya.

A section of the town hall was set aside as a makeshift hospital. A few cots had been brought in, but not nearly enough for the queue of people waiting to be seen. Most of the injured were huddled on blankets on the floor, and a wall to lean on if they were lucky enough to find a space.

Ms. Joya had taken on the role of triage nurse. She did what she could to slow bleeding and reset bones when needed. There were certain things that needed to be done before Marlene could effectively cure them, and as the mother of 8 clumsy children, she was most qualified to apply first aid. (She had also had some training as an army nurse, but she claimed that she had learned more patching up her bumbling chitlins than she ever had with formal training.)

She had come up with a system with colored handkerchiefs that she handed out to the patients as she evaluated them. They were designated as critical (pink flowered hankie), urgent (green and yellow stripes), or wounded (blue swirls). Some of the time, Marlene could only give attention to the pink flowered hankies, and then often only enough to get them downgraded to green and yellow stripes before moving to more pink flowers. When things slowed down a bit and she could see no more pink hankies, she returned to the striped hankie patients. Those whose injuries were minor enough to be given blue swirls were sent off to another area, where a team of volunteers armed with antiseptic, gauze, splints, and tape were there to patch them up.

There were also some designated "helpers" – some girls around Marlene's age that brought around water to the people waiting to be seen and helped them drink it, or brought extra towels or blankets if there were any to be found.

The rest of the townspeople, those who weren't injured, caring for the injured, or out on rescue missions to bring in the survivors, milled around the town hall listlessly. A few of the stronger, more capable types had tried to help with the fighting, but they had badly underestimated the strength of their enemies. These beasts were not the occasional nuisance on the edge of town that could be chased off with a pitchfork. These monsters were big and strong and feral. They destroyed homes and ended lives without a modicum of guilt.

Many of Marlene's most critical patients were these brave but misguided people who had tried to help Tifa and her crew protect the town. They were not trained fighters. They were farmers and barbers and shopkeepers. Marlene poured everything she had into helping these people, because she knew that they were brave enough to do what she was not.

A wave of exhaustion swept over her as she put a hand to the wall to steady herself. One of the helpers, a girl named Alexis ("Lexi, please") came up behind Marlene and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"You're doing a really great job, Marlene," she said sincerely. She was a few years older than Marlene, with thoughtful brown eyes and wavy brown hair. She was slightly familiar, and Marlene thought that she'd possibly seen her around the halls at school.

Marlene tried to smile. "Thanks Lexi. You too."

Lexi snorted. "I'm about as useful as a pigeon in a pigpen. But what you can do…that's really something, Marlene. There are people here who would have died without you."

It's amazing how much difference a few words can make. A little ray of sunshine brightened Marlene's heart and she straightened up. "What you're doing helps too, Lexi. You're giving people comfort when they're scared and hurting. That's important."

Lexi smiled bashfully. "Well, back to it, I guess," she said, waving as she walked away.

A couple of hours later, they were down to the green and yellow hankies. It had been a while since a new wave had come in, and all of their patients seemed at least stable. Marlene took a break to get some water from the table at the center of the hall.

Across the room, she heard some commotion as two men helped carry a third inside. Ms. Joya waved frantically to get her attention. "Marlene! Get over here quick!"

Marlene hurried over, calling out to the lifestream even as she ran. By the time she reached him, the bright green glow at her wrist was channeled into a flow of healing that streamed out through her fingertips. The man arched his back as she moved her hand over his chest, where a huge gash was spurting crimson blood. She stopped the flow of the stream before it could reach him. He wouldn't heal properly if he couldn't hold still.

Ms. Joya was leaning over the man and attempting to press against both sides to bring the wound together, but the man was squirming and writhing in pain. On top of that, the blood was covering Ms. Joya's arms and spraying her face, making everything slippery and hard to see.

"Hannah! Lexi! We need your help!" Marlene called out over the man's screams.

The helpers hurried to the man's side. Hannah stood opposite of Ms. Joya, trying to hold the wound closed from that side, but she was quickly getting as slippery as the older woman, and even the two of them couldn't hold the man still. Lexi knelt down by the man's head and took his hand. She spoke softly in his ear. Her crooning words were unintelligible to Marlene, but the man immediately calmed. His thrashing stopped and his back relaxed against the floor. Ms. Joya and Hannah pressed his skin together so that the wound could mend evenly while Marlene streamed healing light over his chest.

The bleeding slowed dramatically, but the man was still pale and his breathing was shallow. A wave of dizziness swept over Marlene and the world went out of focus. _No! Not now! I can't run out of magic points now! He's not healed enough yet!_ Pain started to thread up her arms as she fought against her body. _Just a little more! Just give me a little more!_

"Marlene. Stop." Lexi pulled back on Marlene's hands.

"No! He's still bleeding inside! I can still feel it!" Marlene cried. But she could also feel that the blood was slowing, being pushed weakly by the fading beats of his heart. "Get me some ether! I need to finish!"

Hannah ran over to the supplies and returned a moment later with a bottle of ether. Marlene snatched it and swallowed it down, feeling the clarity trickling into her muddled head. The empty bottle hit the floor with a muted clang as she grabbed onto the current of the lifestream again. But something was wrong. The healing stream wouldn't go into the man's body. It swirled around above his chest, going nowhere and ultimately dissipating into the air.

"Why isn't this working?" Marlene cried. She sent out another surge, and again it swirled above the man's chest and disappeared.

Lexi reached out to Marlene's hand and gently enclosed it within her own. "Marlene. It's too late. He's gone."

"No he's not! I can bring him back! I just needed a little more! Let me finish!" She sent out bursts, fighting against Lexi's hand.

"Marlene. Stop. You're wasting magic and there are other people who need your help," Lexi murmured in her ear.

"No! I just…no! Just let me!" Marlene sobbed. And then she crumbled.

Lexi held her, letting her gently down to the floor as she cried. She wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, held Marlene's head against her chest, and started singing. The words she sang meant nothing to Marlene, but the pain in her stomach began to fade as the music filled her head. The room around her faded out. The sharp iron smell of blood that had been inescapable for most of the day dulled and disappeared. There was only the music. Incredibly, a sense of peace soothed the jagged edges of her heart.

Marlene blinked and sat up as the music faded. She looked at Lexi in awe. "What did you just do?"

Lexi shrugged. "It's just a song my dad used to sing for me. I was just trying to get you to calm down."

"But I—" The sounds of groaning and crying filtered back in, and Marlene remembered where she was. She had work to do. She squeezed Lexi's hand and stood. "We need to talk later."

Lexi got to her feet as well. The others had covered the man's body and gone off to divest themselves of the worst of the blood. Marlene felt a faint sadness as she looked at the covered body, but none of the anguish that had overwhelmed her before. In fact, she felt more refreshed than she had in hours. Lexi had started to walk away when Marlene called out to her again.

"Lexi? Just…um…thanks," she finished awkwardly.

Lexi smiled and nodded, then turned away.

* * *

Denzel clung desperately to Cloud as they raced through the night. He had been uncomfortable with their speed on the way there, but this was terrifying. The helmet blocked out most of his vision, which was fine with Denzel. Things were flying by fast enough to dismember him, and he didn't even want to look. He locked his hands together in front of Cloud and tucked his head against his back as he had been instructed. Cloud's body would serve as a shield against any debris or smaller branches that he didn't want to spend the time swerving to avoid. 

The wind was cold against Denzel's arms, but he could feel Cloud's heat through his shirt, and he was _hot._ Denzel was getting uncomfortably warm just from the places they were in contact. He felt the first twitch at Cloud's abdomen after they had been on the road for about an hour. Cloud didn't show any outward reaction. They continued driving.

The next twitch was much stronger. It was accompanied by a rough grunt. Denzel lifted his head slightly. "Cloud! Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm…AGH!" Cloud doubled over, wrapping one arm around his stomach. He released his grip on the accelerator and the bike began to slow, but not nearly enough. He raised his head and reached out for the handlebar again, but before he could reach it, another pain tore through him. Cloud screamed and released both handlebars, aware of nothing but the searing pain ripping through his insides.

"CLOUD!" Denzel screamed.

Cloud was doubled over, attempting to curl himself into a ball. Fenrir swerved dangerously to one side. Denzel reached over him and grabbed the handlebars, attempting to straighten the speeding bike. He overcorrected, careening to the other side. Cloud stopped screaming and slumped in the seat, unconscious. Denzel released one of the handlebars and attempted to hold on to Cloud as he slid to one side. The guy was _heavy_. He managed to straighten the wobbling bike, but he was starting to lose his hold on Cloud.

He scanned the gauges and levers frantically, searching for the brake. Why hadn't Cloud ever shown him how to drive this thing? They were decelerating, but still moving way too fast.

"Cloud! Wake up!" he yelled down at him.

Cloud didn't wake up. Denzel's arm strained under the weight of Cloud's body as it slumped further off the side of the bike. His muscles burned and quivered. "Cloud! What do I do, Cloud? HELP me! Wake UP!"

Denzel's arm gave out. Cloud's body fell to the side, pulling Denzel and the bike down with it. They skidded across the rocky dirt together. Denzel's arm was still trapped underneath the heavy body. He felt every rock and stick tearing through his flesh, and he heard the distinctive _snap_ of his forearm as the bone splintered. Finally the friction against Cloud's body pulled him free from Denzel, and Denzel bounced and rolled before coming to an abrupt stop against a tree. Pain speared through his back, competing with the agony radiating up his arm.

The sound of metal scraping against rock stopped a moment later as Fenrir slid to a halt. Denzel kept his eyes shut tight, trying to breathe through the pain. His stomach rolled and he turned his head to the side, barely quick enough to avoid vomiting all over himself. He tried not to move as he heaved and coughed. Every tiny movement sent a bonus shot of agony through his body.

Once he had managed to continue breathing for a few minutes, he lifted his uninjured arm – relatively uninjured, anyway. It was scraped and bruised, but had received some protection from his bracer. The restore materia was covered in dust and scratches, but it was still intact. The pain made it hard to focus, but he pushed it from his mind and called out to the lifestream. It slid through his body like a soothing stream, easing the ache in his back and dulling the pain in his arm. He kept his eyes closed as he focused. The tingling in his arm was intense, bordering on painful, but he pushed through it, knowing that all of the individual cells inside of his arm were being repaired.

Finally, he opened his eyes. He was exhausted. He pushed himself up on to his knees and looked around for Cloud. He saw nothing but blackness in every direction. The only thing of note was the trail of disturbed dirt where Denzel had skidded across the ground. At the very least, he could follow their skid marks to get back to Cloud, although he had no idea how far that might be.

Denzel started crawling in that direction, but as he put his weight on his healed arm, it collapsed under him. Alarmed, he sat up to examine it. It didn't hurt anymore, but it didn't look right, either. It seemed crooked somehow. The muscles seemed to work, but they weren't firing in the way he expected. It was like they were getting commands from his brain, but the orders were all mixed up.

Biting his lip, he pushed himself on, crawling with one arm, the other held protectively against his chest. After an excruciatingly slow 50 yards, he came across the heap of dusty clothes that was Cloud. He looked like he hadn't moved from the place where his skid had ended. Denzel looked him over. He didn't seem nearly as scraped up as Denzel had been, but his skin was much tougher due to all the mako treatments.

Denzel gently pushed on a shoulder. He jerked back his hand as if he'd been burned. It _felt_ like he'd been burned. Gingerly, he reached out and touched the shoulder again. It was definitely hot, but it wouldn't burn him. He shook his shoulder harder. "Cloud. Wake up!"

Still no response. Feeling suddenly panicked, Denzel rolled Cloud onto his back. His head lolled limply to one side. "Come _on_ , Cloud, this isn't funny anymore! You've got to get up!" Wet tracks cut through the dust on Denzel's cheeks. He bit back the mounting hysteria.

_'No matter what happens, you have to stay calm. Think through it. Take in your environment and evaluate your options.'_

Yes, trainer Cloud-in-his-head had a good point. Getting hysterical would help no one. But his heartbeat refused to slow down. His brain was spinning in useless circles. Snippets of voices flew past, random fragments of conversation remembered over the years.

_Denzel, you need to finish…Don't eat those they'll make you sick…Wait for me…Can you show me how…Watch your feet…It's your turn for…Remember that day…Getting tired, buddy…You're not old enough…Don't touch the…_

There was something in there. Something he needed to grab on to.

_Getting tired, buddy?_

That was it. That was the memory he needed. He clung to it desperately, letting the rest of the memory fill in around that one phrase. The sound of the waves. The murmur of familiar voices. The heaviness of a hand. The feeling of safety.

The tingling warmth of the lifestream ebbed and flowed around him, easily within his reach. _Of course! I haven't even tried to heal him yet!_

Denzel opened his eyes as the warmth flowed through his fingers and into Cloud. Denzel watched anxiously for his reaction. The relatively minor scrapes and cuts of his road rash sealed themselves under healthy skin, but Cloud didn't move. Denzel channeled more, widening the stream. But still, Cloud didn't move.

_Ok. Ok, what now? Now…my environment. Take in my environment._

Denzel glanced around them, wishing for a moment that he had Cloud's enhanced eyes, and then feeling ashamed of his envy as he remembered that none of Cloud's enhancements had been voluntary.

_'Work with what you have, not what you wish you had. Go back to the beginning and think about what you want to accomplish, and then find a different way.'_

"Thank you again, Cloud-in-my-head," he muttered. And then, because he felt a little less alone just hearing his own voice, he continued to speak aloud. "Ok, what do I want to accomplish? I want to see in the dark. Magical glowy eyes are out of the question…no idea where the lantern is…probably smashed on the side of the road…fire! I have fire materia!"

Feeling energized, Denzel got to his feet. He found a thick branch that would last for a while, but he knew from experience that it wouldn't burn well by itself. He scanned the ground for something to use, mentally discarding leaves and moss and animal remains that he spotted. Finally, a tear in the hem of his shirt caught his eye. He grasped the material on one side of the tear with his repaired arm, and used his good arm to pull in the opposite direction. It tore unevenly, leaving a big half-circular patch that exposed the left side of his abdomen and back.

"Never works as well as in the movies," he grumbled. It didn't matter, though. He had his material. He grasped both ends of the cloth and twisted it tightly, and then wrapped the twisted material around the end of the branch and tied it. He set the branch on the ground and backed away. He closed his eyes and focused. He had recently leveled the materia up enough to use Fira, and he would be able to target a smaller area with that. He made his target slightly above the cloth-wrapped end of the stick and cast his spell.

"Yes!" The fire was just wide enough to reach the fabric, and it caught. The rest of the fire burned out quickly with nothing but dirt to consume. Denzel picked up the torch, pleased to find that it worked almost as well as the lantern.

The light glinted off of something, catching his eye. As he walked closer, he recognized one of Fenrir's mirrors. Examining the ground more closely, he could see the trail where the bike had skidded across the dirt. He followed it until he reached the prize.

Fenrir was looking pretty beat up, but Cloud could probably fix it. At the moment, driving it was out of the question anyway. He couldn't lift Cloud onto the bike, and he wasn't going to leave him to go get help. Even if he could, he didn't know how to drive it or where to go.

What he needed was its cargo. Denzel reached around underneath the bike until he felt the phone's clip. It was still attached to the handlebars, but the phone was not. He sighed and traced the path back again, holding the torch in front of him and crouching down to keep the tracks in sight. He finally found the phone a short distance from the skid marks. He scooped it up and examined it in the light of the torch. The screen was smashed beyond recognition, but he pressed the power button anyway. There was nothing. Not a flicker, vibration, or sound. Just dead.

"Great. Brilliant." Denzel let his head fall back and looked up at the stars, easily visible in the blackness. "Gaia, what am I supposed to do?" The stars had no answers for him. "Why is this happening to me? I'm just a kid!" The anger built along with the volume of his voice. "Tell me what to do! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"

He raised the useless phone over his head, ready to hurl it into the woods. But as he pulled his arm back, the stupid voice in his head stopped him – the stupid voice that was Cloud and his endless lessons.

_'Anger clouds your mind. You have to let go of it to think clearly.'_

His arm lowered slowly and a determined look came over his face. "I'm not just a kid. I'm not helpless. And Cloud needs me." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can do this."

Denzel slid the wrecked phone into his pocket and returned to Fenrir. The rest of the cargo was surprisingly still intact, protected from the skid. He pulled out the sleeping bags first, along with the water canteen. He didn't know how long Cloud would be out, but he couldn't stand to leave him lying in the dirt like he was. And now that the adrenaline was fading, his body was starting to remember that it was the middle of the night. Maybe he could get some rest until Cloud awoke.

He brought the sleeping bags and canteen back to where Cloud lay. He dropped them and stabbed the bottom of the torch into the ground as hard as he could. It wasn't quite deep enough to hold the branch straight up, but Denzel dug a little further down with his hands, put in the branch, and packed the dirt back in around it.

"Voila," he said with a flourish. "Floor lamp."

He unrolled one of the sleeping bags next to Cloud and pondered how to get him into it. But as he put his hand on Cloud's arm, he knew that the warmth of the bag was the last thing Cloud needed. He could at least put him on top of the bag so he wasn't lying in the dirt, though.

Denzel walked around to Cloud's feet. He picked those up first and levered them onto the bag. Then he knelt down by Cloud's middle. He slid his arms underneath his back and lifted. "Ow!" His healed arm throbbed angrily. He pulled it out and attempted to lift him with his good arm alone. He managed to raise his body about an inch, but his knees slid backwards against the dirt when he tried to push him forward.

"Hm. Ok. That's not going to work. Cloud, get off your lazy butt and help me." He stared at Cloud's passive form for a few seconds and then shrugged. "It was worth a try. Hmm…maybe I can get the bag under you instead."

He reached across Cloud's body and pulled, rolling him onto his side. Once he had him in that position, he held him there with his injured arm and then reached over and pulled the sleeping bag forward. He let Cloud roll back onto his back, so now the sleeping bag was mostly underneath him. From there, he grabbed onto the slippery material under his body and shoved Cloud with his shoulder, little by little, until he was all the way on the bag. It was exhausting. "Dude, you really gotta cut back on the elphadunk chops or something," he panted.

Cloud still felt really hot. Denzel remembered once when he'd had a fever, Tifa had put a wet cloth on his forehead. Since his shirt was already ruined, it wouldn't hurt to use a little more of it. He found another small tear in the collar on the right side. He pulled at that, ripping off the cloth over his shoulder. It took the whole sleeve along with it. He carefully wet it with the water from the canteen.

As he went to lay it across Cloud's head, a drip from the cloth cut a path through the dirt on his forehead. Denzel carefully wiped away the filth, revealing the pale skin underneath. Cloud was even whiter than usual, and he could feel the heat radiating from his face. Whatever was wrong with him, it was getting worse.

Adding a bit more cold water to the cloth after cleaning his face as well as he could, Denzel folded it and laid it across Cloud's forehead. A rustling in the bushes behind them caught his attention. They hadn't exactly chosen their camping grounds, and this one seemed far from protected in Denzel's limited experience. Relieved that at least it wasn't his sword arm that had been injured, he scrambled to his feet and unsheathed his blade. It looked like he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night after all.

* * *

Finally, Marlene had let herself sleep. Most of the surviving townspeople were inside of the town hall by then, and the critical cases had stopped trickling in. Once there were only blue swirled hankies left – although she suspected Ms. Joya had been getting more liberal with the blue ones after Marlene blearily staggered into her – she had simply curled up on her side on the floor and passed out.

She was awakened by Tifa's voice, and for a moment, she thought she was waking up in Seventh Heaven on a regular school day like any other. As her eyes came into focus, she saw the patterned tile of the town hall floor and remembered where she was. She moved her head slightly, surprised to find something soft underneath it. It was Hannah's sweater. She was covered with a fuzzy blanket that she didn't recognize.

Tifa was talking to Ms. Joya nearby. Most of the town hall had been cleared out, and they had left behind a mess. It looked like a massive party been held. The chairs had been moved into clusters in different areas of the room. Garbage was scattered everywhere, and the room reeked of blood, vomit, and body odor.

"Oh dear, I can't tell you how wonderful Marlene was today," Ms. Joya gushed. "Did we ever find out what happened to Doc Marten?"

"No," Tifa said wearily as she pushed back stray hairs that had escaped from her braid. "He must have been out of town. We couldn't reach him."

"Oh well, at least it's over now," Ms. Joya said, smiling brightly. "You got all of those monsters out of our town though, right?"

"Every last one," Tifa confirmed wearily. "There's still a lot of cleanup to do, but—"

"Don't you worry about that, dear," Ms. Joya said, patting Tifa on the arm. "You've done your part now. The rest of the town can deal with the cleanup."

Tifa looked as rough as Marlene felt. She was covered in monster guts, and she looked like she was in need of a blue hankie herself. She had a large cut extending from her hairline down to her cheekbone, narrowly missing her eye. Her other eye was sporting a shiner that was probably still swelling, and a nasty-looking bruise colored her jaw. Her clothes had been torn in several places, and she was standing in a way that kept most of her weight off of one leg. She had taken off her gloves already, exposing her cracked and bleeding knuckles, which told of more fighting than they had seen in a long time.

"It's probably for the best anyway," Ms. Joya went on. "Your little girl did more than he ever could have for all those people. What a responsible, delightful young lady."

Tifa smiled over at Marlene. Finding her eyes open, she walked over, limping slightly, and knelt down next to her. "Hi sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

Without a word, Marlene reached out and rested a hand on Tifa's knee. The stream, which usually felt like sand slipping through her fingers, flowed out of her and into Tifa. This time it felt like the fingers hurt to move, like the sorest muscle she could imagine. She winced as Tifa sighed in relief and the cuts and bruises were sealed over with healthy skin.

"Thank you, honey. But you should let me do that for anyone else who needs it." Gently, she reached over and popped the materia from the girl's bracer. "You didn't answer my question. How do you feel? And how many ethers did you drink today?"

"Mm," Marlene groaned. She tried to sit up, but her arms were so weak that they barely supported her. She collapsed back onto the soft sweater. "I dunno. A lot." Her voice was hoarse.

"That's ok. You just go back to sleep," she said, scooping the girl up.

Marlene rested her head on Tifa's shoulder. She didn't even stay awake long enough to leave the building.

* * *

Cloud groaned and put his hand to his head. He had a headache that told him that his body had been furiously healing itself while he'd been out. It seemed to be a survival mechanism of the S-cells. When his body was too damaged for him to continue, it just knocked him out and went into intense healing mode. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up feeling like that, and it wouldn't be the last.

The first thing he saw was a large branch stuck in the ground. The top was charred black. The sun was high in the sky, so it had outlived its usefulness hours ago. He sat up slowly to find Denzel sitting across from him on a sleeping bag. He was watching him calmly, but his shirt looked like it had been torn apart by a rabid beast. "Denzel? What happened?"

"You had an episode," Denzel stated matter-of-factly. "We crashed."

That woke him up fast. "Oh sh—um, are you ok?"

"Yeah. Mostly." Denzel shrugged.

Cloud stood up carefully, surprised to find that he actually felt pretty good. He didn't have even the residual soreness usually left in the mako's wake. Denzel must have healed him already.

He looked over at the boy. "What do you mean by _mostly_?"

"Well. I'm not sure about Fenrir. The phone is useless. And my arm doesn't seem to be quite right," he said casually.

Cloud walked over to where Denzel sat. "What's wrong with your arm?"

Denzel held out his crooked arm. Cloud grasped his wrist, gently palpating his forearm. "Did it break?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Well you didn't set it before you healed it, so it didn't heal right," Cloud said grimly. He gently turned Denzel's wrist, examining it closely. "Jeez, how many places did you break it?"

"I don't know," Denzel said irritably. "I was busy being in pain. I wasn't up for…seeing inside my body or whatever Marlene calls it."

Cloud ran a hand through his hair. "Right. Well we're going to have to break it again, but we'll need to wait until we get back to Tifa and Marlene. You'll just have to live with it for now."

"What? You can't handle being there for it? You need the girls to do it?" Denzel teased.

Cloud gave him a pained smile. "Oh, I'll be there. I'll be the one holding you down."

Before Denzel could really process what that meant, Cloud had walked away. "Come on, help me fix this." He was collecting pieces of glass and metal from the ground as he headed to where Fenrir lay sadly in the dust.

Denzel jumped up and followed quickly behind him. "How are you gonna fix it? It looks pretty bad, Cloud."

"I guess we'll see." Cloud grinned over his shoulder. "But she's tougher than she looks."

* * *

When Marlene opened her eyes, everything ached. She was back home in her own bed. She heard the murmur of familiar voices being carried up through the vents to her room. She and Denzel had figured out many years ago that conversations held in the kitchen could clearly be heard if they sat next to the vent in their bedroom. It didn't seem that Cloud and Tifa had ever learned about it, because they continued to have not-so-private talks in the kitchen. She had heard a few other things that she preferred not to think about, too.

Her face scrunched up in pain as she pushed her stiff muscles to get her out of the bed. She hobbled over to the vent and painfully lowered herself to her knees. She immediately recognized that deep voice and her heart leapt.

"When's she gonna wake up, Tifa? I need to see my little girl!"

"You've seen her, Barret."

"I mean when she's awake. I need to know she's ok."

"I already told you. She'll be fine. It's going to take a few days, though." Tifa paused. "As near as I can tell, she drank about twenty five ethers yesterday."

" _Twenty five?!_ Are you _kidding_ me?" There was a pause. "I don't uh…actually, I don't know what that even means. What's that gonna do to her?"

Tifa sighed wearily. "Ether restores the mind and spirit by taking energy from other places in the body. Everyone has some reserves, but once you deplete the extra energy, it starts being taken from any place it can be found. Bones, muscles, blood…and eventually organs. Normally, the body has enough reserve for about two ethers."

"Why can't you just cure her?" Barret demanded.

"Cure only helps to mend wounds. This is more like a lack of resources. It's going to take time to rebuild them."

"Okay…" Barret spoke thoughtfully. "And that nasty drink you made for her is supposed to help that?"

"Yeah, it'll replenish some of the nutrients and things she lost. But she can only absorb so much at a time."

"But…she _will_ be back to normal. Eventually. Right?" Barret's voice was pleading.

Tifa didn't answer right away. Finally, she said, "probably."

"Tifa!" Barret boomed. "How could you let her do that?!"

Tifa sounded furious. " _Let_ her? Are you kidding me? I was out there fighting, just like you were, except a whole lot longer. She's not a baby anymore, Barret! I can't stand over her and make sure she doesn't put things from the floor in her mouth! She's 12 years old, she's very capable, and she was doing her part to help, just like the rest of us. And sometimes…" her voice softened. "Sometimes, doing your part means you have to make sacrifices."

Barret's heavy boots thumped across the floor below. They reached the end of the kitchen and thumped back again. "She's too young to be making sacrifices, Teef." His voice cracked.

"I know," Tifa said. "And maybe she won't have to. She's young. She could bounce back from this. She saved a lot of lives, Barret. She did the right thing, even if it's hard for us to accept the price."

"Yeah. You're right," Barret said gruffly. "She's a good girl. You done a good job raising her."

There was dead silence in the kitchen. It was the first time Barret had ever admitted that he had left Marlene under someone else's care for so long that he couldn't claim to be actually raising her anymore. It must have been hard for him to say. He was the last one to really accept it.

"Barret –" Tifa started.

A thump against the kitchen door interrupted their conversation as someone else entered.

"Tifa." It was Cid. "Some guy just banged on the door and said somethin' about a town meeting. You goin'?"

Tifa groaned. "Yeah. I don't want to, but I have to. I know I'm just going to spend the whole stupid time defending why Cloud wasn't here to stop this."

Cid laughed incredulously. "Seriously? What is he, like their personal town guardian?"

"Some of them seem to think so. At least they can't blame him for attracting the monsters this time," Tifa muttered.

"You serious? They're tryin' to blame Cloud for all this?" Cid sputtered. "Tifa, you gotta do somethin' about this! No, _I'm_ gonna do somethin'. I'm comin' with you to that meeting."

"Cid," Tifa said sharply, "I've got it under control."

"Clearly you _don't_ ," Cid insisted. "Obviously being polite and respectable ain't cuttin' it with this group."

"And you really think a profanity-laced tirade is the way to convince them?"

"Maybe," Cid said staunchly. "I know you gotta act all civil since you gotta live with these people, but I don't. I can just tell 'em what I really think."

Tifa sighed. "I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?" she asked finally. "Fine. You can come with, but please let me try my way first." Tifa's light footsteps crossed the kitchen. "Barret, can you take this up to Marlene? She needs to wake up to drink it now. But don't stay too long. She's going to tire easily."

"What? You wan' _me_ to be the one to make her drink that sewage?" Barret asked.

"It might go a little easier if you don't call it 'sewage' in front of Marlene," Tifa said irritably. "She needs it. Man up, Barret."

"What did you…aww that's…you're jes lucky that –"

"That what, Barret?" Tifa asked, a challenge clear in her tone. Marlene stifled a giggle, knowing that Barret was getting one of Tifa's patented _looks_ that he never could stand up to.

"Jes that…" his words faded into mumbles.

"That's what I thought," Tifa said. "Cid, let's go. Barret, bring that up before it gets any later. I'll make her another one in 4 hours."

Marlene was surprised to find that she was too weak to jump up as she usually would have. She braced herself on the wall and stood up slowly. Man, she was really worn out. She shuffled carefully over to the bed and sat down, trying to make herself look alert and comfortable before Barret made it up the stairs. She was just getting settled when the door creaked open and Barret's big head poked through the opening.

Seeing her awake and sitting up, Barret pushed the door open the rest of the way with a big grin. "There's my baby girl! I brought you a…uh…delicious shake!" He held out the thick, lumpy green concoction.

"Delicious shake," Marlene said skeptically as she took it from him. Her hand shook as she held the glass, and she quickly brought up her other hand to help, hoping Barret hadn't noticed. The slight lowering of his brows told her that he had.

"Well, Tifa made it, so it's gotta be, right?" Barret said, but he couldn't look her in the eye.

Marlene sniffed the suspicious drink and wrinkled her nose. It smelled like sour milk mixed with moldy vegetables. "You know, Daddy, I'm not four. You can't trick me into thinking my lima beans are veggie-flavored ice cream anymore."

Barret chuckled fondly. "I know, baby girl. Truth is, it might not taste great, but Tifa says you need it to get your strength back." He stroked her hair with one giant hand. "I heard you were the hero of the day out there."

Marlene shrugged. "I guess I was the only person who could use materia and couldn't fight. I wish I could be like Tifa. She can do _every_ thing."

"Naw, don't be doin' that. You did more than anyone to get this town through this." Barret leaned his forehead against hers. "There's a whole lot more to a battle than jes fightin'."

A small smile appeared on her face.

Barret sat back and gestured to the glass in her hands. "Enough talkin' now. Plug yer nose and chug it down."

* * *

Marlene was determined to get down the stairs the next morning. She'd made a few trips around her tiny room and been tired out yesterday, but she was bored out of her mind and needed some real stimulation. Visiting with whoever delivered Tifa's horrid nutrition shakes every four hours just wasn't cutting it for her, especially since she she spent a good portion of that time trying not to throw it back up.

She shuffled over to her dresser and pulled open a drawer. She grabbed the first clothes she saw, paying no attention to what they were. She made her way back to the bed and sat down to get dressed. She was obviously still weak and sore, but she refused to sit and stare out the window for another day. Slowly, she pulled on the pants. They were much too big. Most of her clothes were handed down from distant family members or procured from charities, so she was used to ill-fitting garments, but these pants threatened to expose her lacy white underwear if she so much as sneezed.

It had actually taken quite a lot of effort to get them on though, and she didn't have the energy to start the process over again. Instead, she slid a belt through the loops and cinched it tight. She carefully slid the shirt over her head against the objections of her muscles. It was pretty baggy too, but it was good enough for home.

She put her feet down on the cold floor. She had forgotten to grab socks when she was at her dresser, too. She shifted her weight onto her feet and began taking small, slow steps to the door. As she passed her vanity, the mirror caught her eye and she gasped out loud. She leaned closer, tracing a finger over the features that should have been familiar. Her usually rounded cheeks looked hollow. Deep purple rings under her eyes made them even more prominent than usual. Her skin was pale and papery, and her brown hair hung limply around her face. With a shaking hand, she reached out to the purple headband on her vanity and slid it into her hair, hoping for some familiarity. She felt slightly better with the hair out of her face, but the sharp angles of her jaw were only more pronounced. She looked like a shrunken version of the healthy girl she used to see in the mirror.

She decided she didn't care. She wasn't a vain person, after all; she'd just been shocked by her reflection. She used the surface of the vanity to push off and get moving toward the door again. Everything ached, but at least she had a little more strength today. She grasped the railing at the top of the stairs and slowly made her way down. Tifa was in the kitchen tending to a couple of large sizzling pans. Yuffie chopped up a variety of fruit on the counter with her shuriken. Marlene hoped she'd bothered to wash it first.

Yuffie glanced up as Marlene reached the bottom. "Hey kiddo! How ya feeling?" Her attempt at a casual question didn't hide the shock that had flashed across her face when she got her first look at Marlene.

"I'm fine. Great," she said cheerfully. "Do you need any help, Tifa?"

"Oh no, sweetheart," Tifa said with a smile. "You go sit down out in the bar. We've got the whole crew with us for breakfast today!"

"Ok," Marlene said, trying to walk as normally as possible out to the bar area.

"Still nothing on his phone." Barret's deep voice welcomed her as she opened the swinging door. He looked over in surprise, quickly stashing his phone. "Well good mornin', baby girl." He rushed over and pulled out a chair for her, as if she were a lady or an invalid.

Marlene was guessing the latter, but she smiled sweetly as she sat. Vincent and Cid were already seated at the table, Cid with a cigarette tucked in the corner of his lips. He set it down in the ashtray and squinted through the smoke at Marlene.

"You look like hell, girl," Cid drawled, blunt as usual.

"Cid! Do you need another hole in your—"

"It's fine, Daddy," Marlene interrupted smoothly. "I guess I went a little overboard with the materia," she said to Cid.

Cid nodded with approval. "No reason to be ashamed of battle wounds, girl. You earned your stripes the other day."

Barret looked mollified, although he didn't take his eyes off of Cid.

Vincent nodded, solemn as usual. "Yes, I think you can officially call yourself part of Cloud's crew, now."

Barret scowled. Although he had eventually accepted Cloud as the leader of their little group, it was no secret that he had grudgingly given up the reigns.

Marlene looked around the bar, which was empty besides the four of them. "Where is Cloud, anyway? And Denzel?"

The three men exchanged glances. "They're just…uh...well…" Barret waffled.

"They ain't home yet," Cid announced. "And they're not answering the phone."

Barret shot a glare at Cid. "Ya didn't hafta—"

They all turned to look as the front door opened. Then their gazes lowered to see the four-legged animal pushing through. Nanaki padded across the floor and climbed up on a chair at the table. Marlene never could get used to seeing him sitting at the dinner table like a person.

"Good morning," he said calmly. He didn't even give Marlene a second look. "Any news on Cloud?

Barret gave up on trying to protect Marlene from hearing too much. "No, no news."

Tifa walked through the swinging door a moment later with an aromatic platter of sausages, along with heaping plates of eggs and french toast. Yuffie followed behind, her arms loaded with milk, juice, various condiments, and a large bowl of mixed fruit.

"Oh good, everyone's here," Tifa said, but it lacked her usual cheerfulness. She couldn't hide the weariness in her tone. She took her seat and glanced around at everyone, lingering on Marlene.

Everyone began dishing up, but their usual good-natured ribbing was absent. Marlene remembered the last time they had all gotten together. Cloud had tried to hoard a bunch of meat, Barret had yelled at him, and Yuffie had used their distraction to see how much she could pickpocket from the others. She always gave it back, but she enjoyed the challenge, just to see if she still could.

Now the dishes were all passed around in near-silence. The only verbal interaction was between Vincent and Nanaki, as Vincent dished up for the beast without opposable thumbs. Otherwise there was only the sound of spoons clanking against bowls, food plopping on plates, and liquid sloshing in glasses. Marlene waited for the obvious topic of conversation to arise, but after the silence stretched on too long, she decided to bring it up herself.

"So, how are we going to find Cloud and Denzel?"

The adults froze and looked around at each other, silent for a moment.

"I'm sure everything's fine. This is _Cloud_ we're talking about," Yuffie's flippant comment finally came. "Maybe he just decided to take a scenic route or something."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Yuffie," she scoffed. "He knew we were in trouble. He said he'd be home as fast as he could."

Yuffie just gaped at her. Marlene was normally such a sweet girl, but she just didn't have the energy to sugarcoat her words. For once, Yuffie didn't come back with a snarky retort.

"Maybe we should wait a bit longer before we get too concerned," Nanaki suggested calmly.

"No," Tifa said grimly. "He should have been here over 24 hours ago. He's not answering his phone. Marlene's right. Something's wrong and we can't just sit around and do nothing."

Dropping her fork, she got up and went behind the bar, pulling out a rolled-up map. It was made of a flexible plastic, and almost every inch of it had been covered with erasable marker at some time or another. She pinned it against the wall where they could all see it from the table. There was a black line stretching almost from the southwest to the northeast corner. It was relatively straight, although it curved around some geographical obstacles, and the section near the end of the trail appeared to follow a spiral up a mountain. The trail was marked with the distance every 1000 miles, and appeared to have increments of about 100 miles marked between them.

Tifa traced the black line with her finger. "This was the route Cloud mapped out for him and Denzel. The last time I talked to him, he said they were over a day out. Knowing Cloud's driving patterns, that probably put them between 1000 and 1200 miles from home." She marked two spots along the path. "I could hear a river in the background. Within those 200 miles, there are two parts of his route that are close enough to consider stopping at the river – here and here." She picked up a yellow marker and drew two circles within that area, each tangential to the path and the river. "That last contact was 48 hours ago."

"So," Yuffie gulped down a mouthful of food, "then we just have to search along that path? That's not so bad."

"Not quite," Tifa said, turning back to the map. "This route is only certain as long as they were on Fenrir. If something happened to the motorcycle, but they're still able to walk, they would have to find a way to get to the nearest town or at least driveable road for help." Tifa picked up a green marker and peered closely at the map, marking the nearest visible roads and towns to their route.

"These are all really small towns, and the farther they are from Midgar, the less likely they are to have phone service," Tifa said as she drew. "So we can't rule those out as a possibility."

"What do you want us to do, Tifa?" Barret rumbled. "I've already driven out as far as my truck can go along their route. I ain't drivin' it through the forest."

"No, I know you can't. I think we can assume they're not along that stretch of road today. There's enough traffic and enough people with phones that we'd know if they made it this far." Tifa indicated the green lines on the map. "We need to check these alternate routes. They're most likely to be on one of these roads if they needed outside help, but they could be anywhere in between. In some of these places, the road is pretty far from their route and it would take some time to get there."

She looked over to make sure she still had everyone's attention. "We're going to start our search at the point where the Midgar passable roads diverge and Cloud's path splits off into the wilderness, so that will cut off about 150 miles." She drew a flag at the place she had indicated. "Barret, Vincent, and Nanaki will ride together in Barret's truck and split up from there."

Nanaki let out a huff. Tifa gave him a sympathetic smile. "Nanaki, you can ride in the bed of the truck. You won't be trapped inside like you are in my car."

Tifa turned back to the map. "Barret, I need you to follow route A. Stop at any towns or houses you see along the way and ask around. Do your…you know…scary, intimidating thing if you need it to get information."

Barret nodded. "Got it."

"Vincent, I want you to do a flyover of route B. Same thing – stop at any houses or towns along the way and see if anyone has seen them."

Vincent nodded. "Of course."

"Nanaki, at the place where the path diverges, you can follow Cloud's route and see if their scent gets stronger anywhere. We'll put that pouch around your neck with the phone in it and keep an open connection between you and Cid. Yuffie and I will be on chocobo. I'll be halfway between their path and route A, and Yuffie will be halfway between the path and route B, so we'll be on either side of you the whole time."

Yuffie and Nanaki nodded their understanding.

"And Cid. I want you in the airship scanning the whole area. You'll be the point of contact, so if anyone sees anything, they call you. You call everyone else."

She turned to the rest of the group. "Everyone clear on what they're doing?" Five heads nodded back at her.

"Um, Tifa?" Marlene spoke up, sounding stronger than she expected. "What about me?"

"Nuh uh," Barret said, crossing his arms stubbornly. "You gotta stay here and rest, baby girl."

"Tifa?" Marlene implored.

Barret looked like he'd been slapped. He blinked and looked down at his cooling breakfast.

Tifa's eyes met the frail little girl's. She ran a hand over the back of her limp brown hair. "I need you to be here in case Cloud or Denzel calls. Same rules apply for you, ok? If you hear anything, you call Cid and he'll spread the word."

Marlene gave an accepting sigh. It wasn't an _important_ role, but she told herself that Tifa wasn't treating her like a child. Someone did need to be there to answer the phone, and if not her, someone else would have to do it. Tifa was entrusting it to her, even though she was weak and tired. At least Tifa hadn't just told her to rest like Barret had. At least she hadn't insisted on someone staying behind to watch her.

Five phones buzzed, beeped, and vibrated at once. "I've just texted you all the coordinates where we'll meet up with the airship at 7 pm, if we haven't found them by then," Tifa said. "In a minute I'll be individually texting you the coordinates that are your responsibility to cover. There are lunches packed for everyone in the fridge, so you can grab it before you go. Finish eating breakfast, make sure your phones are charged, gas tanks are full, and chocobos are ready. We leave in one hour."

* * *

There was only one mechanic in Kilne. A patch stuck to the front of his greasy coveralls proclaimed his name as "Carl" in curly script. He was short and muscular, much like Cloud, but more compact. He was also arrogant, and it was really rubbing Cloud the wrong way.

"Are you kidding me?" Cloud asked irritably. "Why would it take 5 days just to replace—"

"Look, buddy," stated the mechanic condescendingly, "do you know how hard it is to get parts in Kilne? I already told ya we don't have phones out here. How do ya think we get parts? We gotta drive all the way to Arnold, Madora, sometimes all the way to the city—"

"Fine, forget it," Cloud sighed. "Is there anyone with a truck in town? Maybe we can find someone who will drive us back to Edge. I can get it fixed later."

"Just one." Carl smirked. "That'd be Manny."

"Ok, great," Cloud said. "Where can I find Manny?"

"He lives about two miles to the east, out in the country. I s'pose you can leave yer bike here for now, and I'll give ya a lift to Manny's place…for a fee."

"Thanks," Cloud said shortly, "but we'll take it with us. We don't have time to waste coming back for it."

"With those bent handlebars and axle on the country roads? That's more trouble than it's worth, son. For a few gil you can—"

"We'll manage," Denzel said, softening it with a smile. He could see Cloud was near the end of his rope with this guy. It was strange, really. Cloud hardly ever showed emotion, and it was extremely rare for him to lose his temper, but he'd been acting different during this whole trip.

Carl shrugged. "Suit yerself."

Cloud walked the bike out of the garage, barely clearing the doorway before starting it up and climbing on. Denzel scrambled on behind him.

Fenrir had absolutely no interest in getting them home in a hurry. It took 15 minutes to reach Manny's farm as they puttered along, fighting against the axle, and they sunk into several inches of mud before reaching the farmhouse. Cloud groaned, turned off the engine, and swung his leg over the seat. His boots squelched in the sticky mud as he walked quickly up to the front door. He hammered impatiently on the peeled and faded wood. After a few minutes of knocking, their trip was starting to look like a total loss.

Denzel was dreading Cloud's reaction already. He scanned the area around them and caught a flash of movement over by the open barn door.

"Hey Cloud!" Denzel yelled, already running toward the barn. "I think he's in here!"

Running wasn't easy with the mud clinging to his boots like cement, but Denzel got there as fast as he could. He spotted a stooped figure in a checkered flannel shirt, slowly shoveling hay with a pitchfork.

"Excuse me!" he called. "Are you Manny?"

The figure turned slowly and removed his woven straw hat. "Oh. Hello there. How can I help you, young man?"

The man spoke as slowly as he moved. He looked ancient. Tiny eyes were sunken into the deep, craggy lines of his face. His hands were liver spotted. Denzel wondered how fit a man his age could be for farm work.

Cloud appeared behind Denzel, saving him from having to explain their dilemma. The old man's eyes lit up when he spotted him. "Hey. You're Cloud Strife, aren't you?"

A familiar look of dismay crossed Cloud's face. "Uh. Yeah. I guess so."

But they were stranded, relying on the kindness of strangers to get them home. Denzel knew that they could use this to their advantage. "Actually, Manny, he's in the middle of a critical mission, and he really needs your help."

Manny's face spread into a slow smile. "Well I'll be darned," he said, clapping his hat back onto his head. "Anything I can do for the hero of Midgar would be an honor."

"Er…right," Cloud said uncertainly. "Well, we had a little trouble with my motorcycle. We need to get back to Midgar in a hurry, and Carl at the shop says you might be willing to give us a lift back to Edge."

"Edge?" Manny asked, scratching the back of his head. "Edge of what?"

"Umm, the edge of Midgar, actually."

"Midgar?" Manny looked even more confused. "Midgar got smashed by that giant meteor, son."

"Yeah, I know," Cloud said impatiently. "It's built on the edge of the Midgar ruins. Look, we're really in a hurry, so…"

"Oh, sure, of course," Manny agreed, nodding emphatically. "Would you like some tea?"

"No. Thank you," Cloud said, trying not to let his irritation show through his voice. "We need to get home. So would you be able to give us a lift? We'd need to put the motorcycle in the back of your truck."

"Oh?" the old man asked. "If you have a motorcycle, it would probably be a mite faster than Ol' Bessie."

"Yeah," Cloud snapped. "But it's broken. That's why we need a lift from someone with a truck."

"A truck," Manny pondered slowly. "I have a truck! I call 'er Ol' Bessie." His wrinkles split into a smile again.

Denzel could practically see the steam coming from Cloud's ears. He took a step forward and took Manny's hand, gently pulling him toward the farmhouse. "Manny, do you think you could bring us and the motorcycle to the ruins of Midgar in Ol' Bessie? Cloud Strife has an important mission there." He hoped that if he said everything at once, the old man would be able to keep up with the conversation.

"Cloud Strife? Why, he saved our whole planet once!"

"Yes, he did," Denzel said calmly, continuing to pull Manny toward the house. "And you can help him, if you can drive us to the Midgar ruins in Ol' Bessie."

"Oh, why certainly!" Manny said. "Let me just get my keys." With that, he continued on toward the house, muttering to himself. "I'm going to help the hero of Midgar. It's an important mission!"

Cloud pushed a hand through his blond spikes. "Thanks, Denzel. I thought I was gonna lose my mind talking to him."

"No problem," Denzel said with a grin. "I saw the truck around the side of the barn. Maybe we should get Fenrir loaded up while he's getting his keys."

Cloud went back to Fenrir and walked it around the side of the barn. They both eyed the truck doubtfully. It looked like it might have been Manny's first truck, about 80 years ago.

"Are you sure this thing still runs?" Cloud asked.

"Well…Carl sent us out here, so he must have a working truck, right?" Denzel circled the vehicle, wondering if it was possible that Manny had a different one. "Oh, wait! There's tire tracks in the mud here. So it must work."

"Yeah, alright," Cloud sighed. "I'll get it put into the back. Maybe you should check on Manny and make sure he hasn't forgotten what he was doing."

Manny _had_ forgotten. After pulling off his mud-caked boots in the entryway, Denzel found him in the kitchen, in the middle of making himself a sandwich.

After several more gentle nudges and reminders, Manny located his keys and shoes and coat and glasses and driving gloves and seat cushion and was finally out the front door. The three men made their way over to the ancient truck at a glacial pace. They climbed into the cab and Manny spent another couple minutes adjusting the seat and the mirrors and checking the glove compartment and cleaning the windshield. Finally, he turned over the ignition, and Ol' Bessie grudgingly started up.

Just as Manny released the parking brake and put his hand on the gear stick, a small car pulled up into the driveway. "Oh look, Chase is here! Maybe Chase should drive you. You know I'm not as sharp as I used to be." He put the parking brake on again.

"So close," Denzel murmured.

Cloud thunked his head against the window.

Manny rolled down the driver's side window as a tall, skinny man in khaki slacks and a button-down shirt stalked up to the truck. His jet black hair had enough gel for an entire month, and he gave Denzel the distinct impression of a sleaze ball. He had a look on his face like there was something nasty-smelling right under his nose.

"Hey!" he demanded. "What do you think you're doing, Pops?"

"Hello, Chase! I was just bringing these nice boys to…" he looked over at Cloud. "Where were we going again?"

Cloud looked past Manny to address the younger man. "We crashed my motorcycle and we need to get back to Midgar Edge. It's an emergency. Manny here agreed to drive us. We'll be happy to pay him for his help."

Chase snorted. "I hope you're not in much of a hurry for this _emergency_. Ol' Bessie can't go any faster than 30 miles per hour." He shrugged. "It's good enough for Pops."

Manny nodded serenely.

Cloud looked like he was about to explode as he pushed open the door of the ancient truck. He got out and walked around the other side to Chase. "Look, it's really important that we get home immediately. Is there any way you would be willing to drive us to Midgar in your car? I know it's a long way, but I'll pay you 5000 gil. If you could store my bike for a few days, we could come back and pick it up."

Chase smiled. Somehow, that made him look even slimier. He put an arm around Cloud's shoulder and led him away from the truck. Denzel trailed behind them, listening in. "How about you give me your old busted-up bike, and you can keep the car."

"Are you nuts?!" Cloud jerked away from the greasy man. "That car isn't even worth 2000. My bike is a one-of-a-kind custom made—"

"That bike is practically scrap metal right now," Chase argued.

"No. No way. It's not for sale. Look, I'll give you 5000 now and another 5000 when we get to Edge, and then we'll come back for the bike."

Denzel couldn't help wondering where Cloud even planned to get that kind of money, but it wasn't the time to ask.

Chase laughed and shook his head. "I told you my offer. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

Denzel knew Cloud would never give up Fenrir. That machine was his pride and joy. It was a necessity for his livelihood. It was as much a part of him as his sword.

"Fine."

Denzel's jaw hit the floor.

Cloud gritted his teeth. "Denzel, let's get our stuff off of it and go." He strode off toward Fenrir and began unloading their cargo.

Denzel hurried after him and climbed onto the bed of Ol' Bessie to help him with their bags. "Cloud, are you serious? You can't give up Fenrir! It's…it's Fenrir!"

Cloud looked like he was having trouble holding it together, but he doggedly continued opening the compartments and pulling out their things. It was astounding how much he carried in that one little machine. It was like a clown car. He was accumulating a huge pile of belongings next to him.

"It's not Tifa and Marlene," Cloud said quietly.

He opened the last compartment and pulled out Tsurugi. He quickly assembled the sword and slipped it into the harness on his back. He turned around to face the men who stood and watched them – Chase with a smug grin, Manny with oblivious serenity. Manny beamed at Cloud when he saw him with the sword. It _did_ seem more like his natural state. Denzel always thought Cloud looked incomplete without his sword, like a puzzle with a missing piece.

Fenrir was another piece of him. Denzel shot daggers at Chase with his eyes. That man had no idea what he was taking from Cloud. He only knew that he wanted that bike and that Cloud was backed into a corner. If there was one thing Denzel had learned from the destruction of Midgar, it was that he despised people who took advantage of another's hardship. All of that hate was currently aimed at the man who had smugly stood there and watched as they unloaded the machine. But it was replaced with a surge of satisfaction when Chase stumbled backwards and fell over his own feet into the thick mud. He stared with wide eyes at the man in the red cloak who had materialized beside him.

A smile spread across Denzel's face. "Vincent!"


	8. Guilty

"Vincent!" Cloud blinked in shock at the red-cloaked man before him. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Vincent said calmly, ignoring the stuttering man in the mud at his side. "Tifa organized a search party when we couldn't reach you." He looked Cloud and Denzel up and down. "Are you all right?"

"We're fine," Cloud said. "Just had a little…uh…bike trouble."

"I see," Vincent said. He pulled a sleek phone from the inside of his cloak and pressed a few numbers. "Cid. I found them. They're unharmed."

Cid's loud, coarse voice carried through the phone so they could all clearly hear. _"Well then why in the blazes did we need a &!#$ rescue mission?"_

"I'm sure Cloud will explain later. Are you coming to get us?"

_"Yeah, yeah, I guess so. You got room for me to land?"_

Vincent glanced around at the open landscape. "Yes."

_"Fine. Send me the coordinates."_ A loud click indicated that Cid was done talking.

Vincent pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed on the screen experimentally. "How do I get the…I need to send Cid our coordinates."

Denzel suppressed his smile. "I'll do it," he offered. Vincent gratefully handed over the phone. He had finally gotten the hang of making and receiving phone calls, but the rest of the technology was still over his head.

"Vincent." Vincent's eyes shifted back to Cloud. "Does that mean that things are ok in Edge? Are Tifa and Marlene safe?"

Vincent gave a non-committal grunt. "They survived. Edge is…well…you'll have to see for yourself. But the threat has been averted for now."

The guilt and worry that had been weighing down Denzel was finally lifted from his shoulders. Cloud jumped back up on the bed of Ol' Bessie and started repacking their possessions in Fenrir's myriad compartments.

"Hey, hey! What are you doing?" Chase had finally recovered and pulled himself back up to his feet.

Cloud didn't bother to look up as he continued loading the bike. "Deal's off, Chase. You can keep your car. I've got a ride."

Chase tried to puff out his chest, but with his disheveled appearance, he just looked foolish. His formerly pristine clothes hung down from the weight of the thick mud that now coated most of his body.

"Well. I hope your _ride_ has a way to carry that hunk of metal, because if you leave it here—" His eyes grew comically wide as they looked over Cloud's shoulder. Cloud didn't have to look behind him to know that the giant, graceful airship was being lowered slowly to the ground.

He smirked at Chase. "Don't worry. We've got it covered." Having finished with his repacking, Cloud hopped down from the bed of the truck and picked up Fenrir as if it were no more significant than a pillow. Denzel smothered a snicker at Chase's flabbergasted expression as Cloud brought it over to the airship, where a hydraulic hiss accompanied the lowering of the ramp. Vincent glided along behind him, his pointed shoes slipping through the mud effortlessly.

Denzel was relieved to finally be on his way home, but his distaste for the muddy, slick man hadn't faded much. He couldn't resist getting in one last jab. "Well, looks like you dodged a bullet there, Chase. You would never have been able to drive that bike, anyway. It's too heavy for anyone but Cloud to hold up."

Chase's face contorted with confusion. He looked like he was trying to work something out in his head. "Cloud….?"

Manny piped up, "Cloud Strife! Didn't you recognize him?" In all the excitement, Denzel had almost forgotten the old man was still there.

Cloud's footsteps echoed as he came back down the ramp of the airship. He approached Manny and held out his hand. "Thanks for everything, Manny."

Manny took his hand, but shook his head. "But I didn't do anything...did I?"

Cloud gave him a small smile. "No, but you were willing. So…thanks."

"Cloud?" Chase said tentatively, twisting his fingers together. "I uh…I didn't know…I mean, I would never have tried to, you know, if I would've known that you were…uh…you."

Denzel crossed his arms and scoffed. "It shouldn't matter. You shouldn't try to take advantage of people when they're down, no matter who they are."

Cloud raised his eyebrows and shrugged a shoulder. "He's got a point."

Chase dropped his head like a scolded puppy. "I know. You're right. I uh…I'm sorry."

Cloud looked at him for a moment longer, as if measuring his sincerity. Then he nodded. "Forget it."

Cid's voice blared through the external speakers on the ship. "Yo! You ladies about done with your tea party? Let's get this show on the road!"

Cloud and Denzel gave one last wave as they boarded the airship. Cloud smiled over at Denzel as the ramp closed behind them. "Ready to go home?"

Denzel beamed back at him. "Heck, yeah!"

When they reached the bridge, Cid was muttering about mud on the landing gear and how long it was going to take him to clean off everything when they got back. Denzel smiled. He loved the crotchety old man and his constant stream of grumbling. How ironic that Cid's anger always seemed to cheer Denzel up.

They flew to the rendezvous point where Cid had directed everyone to meet them. He set down the ship in a large clearing of grass. Denzel was anxious to see everyone, but they were the first ones there. He hopped out anyway and paced around in the grass. He was really going to miss all this green when they got back to Midgar.

Tifa was the first to arrive, charging in on her chocobo. She hopped off and ran to Denzel, sweeping him up in a hug. For the second she held him, Denzel was too startled to react. Then she pulled back and put her hands on his upper arms, looking him over for injuries.

"Denzel, are you ok? I've been so worried!"

Denzel smiled, hoping to ease some of the lines on Tifa's face. "Yeah, Tifa. I'm good. What about you? Last time you talked to Cloud, Edge was overrun with monsters."

"Oh. Yeah." Tifa released him and ran a hand through her hair nervously. "Well there's some cleanup and rebuilding to do, but we cleared them all out." She put her hands on her hips. "Speaking of Cloud, where is he?"

Denzel nodded over her shoulder, where Cloud stood with his hands in his pockets. He was watching them uncertainly, as if waiting to find out if he were in trouble. Marlene used to roll her eyes and say "Cloud feels guilty for _existing_." Finally, Denzel understood that. There were many layers to Cloud, and he was a little ashamed that it had taken him so long to see past the top few. Marlene was much more intuitive about those kinds of things; he thought that maybe she had figured out a lot of things about Cloud long ago.

But Cloud had no reason to be worried now. Tifa ran to him and flung her arms around his neck. The tension relaxed from his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her and turned his face into her hair.

"Tifa. I'm so sorry. We tried to get home, but I—"

"Shh. I know, Cloud. I know."

Denzel felt like he was intruding on a private moment. He turned his back and walked the other way, letting them have their extended greeting. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his face. Almost immediately, his moment of peace was interrupted as Yuffie came charging into the clearing on her chocobo with an excited scream. "Cloud! Denny!" She unabashedly pushed her way into Cloud and Tifa's embrace, completely oblivious to the moment she was interrupting. "Omigosh I am SO glad to see you guys!" Cloud endured it with a tolerant snort and Tifa gracefully stepped back, covering a smile behind her hand. She was used to the little ninja's antics.

Yuffie released Cloud and ran over to Denzel. She tackled him with a hug, knocking them both backwards onto the grass.

"Jeez Yuf! Were you trying to make sure I was injured before we got home?" Denzel sputtered.

She laughed and ruffled his hair, making it stand up in every direction. "Oh c'mon, Denny! I know you're tougher than that!"

She was the only one who called him Denny, and he _hated_ it. She seemed to think it would catch on, and two years without a single other person using that name didn't do a thing to dampen her enthusiasm. He couldn't really stay mad, though. Yuffie was like an eternal child – a deadly ninja child who liked to play with sharp objects.

As Denzel stood and brushed off his clothes, he realized that Yuffie had actually _not_ been the first one to arrive after Tifa. Nanaki sat by a tree on the edge of the clearing, swishing his fiery tail. At least he'd had enough common sense to respect Cloud and Tifa's space. But now that the Yuffie-nado had torn through and overturned everything, he approached the group. "I'm glad to see you are both safe," he said with a nod of his head.

"Hey, Red," Cloud said with a smile. "Good to see you."

Vincent and Cid finally came down from the ship to greet everyone. Barret was the last to arrive in his truck. He stopped and leaned out the open window. "Yo, Spikey! You still alive?"

"Hey Barret," Cloud responded casually. "You still annoying?"

Barret just laughed and turned off the truck. He bounded out the door and joined the group. "Anyone got any food? I'm starving!"

Tifa scowled at him. "What happened to the lunch I packed?"

Barret scratched his head with his metal hand. "Huh? Oh, it was delicious. But that was like 3 hours ago!"

Tifa scoffed and shook her head.

"What?" Barret defended. "I'm a growing boy!"

Yuffie bounced over. "Yeah ya are," she said, patting his belly. It was hard not to notice that Barret had put on a few pounds over the last couple years. He spent more time doing paperwork than push-ups these days.

"Aww, don't be jealous," Barret said, patting her on the head in return. "You'll grow up someday, pipsqueak."

Yuffie scowled and brushed away his hand.

Denzel looked around at everyone, happy to be together again, happy that everyone was safe. But – "Where's Marlene?"

"She's back at Seventh Heaven," Tifa said. She wouldn't look him in the eye, though, and Denzel had the sneaking suspicion that she was hiding something.

Cloud took charge again. "Alright then, let's mosey. Cid, lower the cargo ramp for Barret and the chocobos and we can go back together."

"Hey Denny," Yuffie said as she bounced up the other ramp next to Denzel. "You're wearing the new sword! Did you show Cloud how a real man uses that thing?"

Denzel laughed out loud. "Something like that. I did get to do a lot of fighting on this trip."

"Really?" Yuffie said excitedly. "Ohhh do tell! I bet you have some great stories."

As they returned to the bridge and Cid lifted off, Cloud and Tifa were conspicuously absent. Denzel took the opportunity to regale the others with his tale of the downhill battle on Fenrir in great detail. His audience oohed and ahhed and cheered at all the right places.

"Well dang, Denzel," Cid drawled when he was done. "Sounds like you and Marlene are both turning into some real good fighters. Guess you're the next generation of Cloud's crew. This one's gettin' old."

"Hey! Speak for yourself!" Yuffie said indignantly. Nanaki growled in agreement.

"What do you mean?" Denzel asked. "What did Marlene do?"

Cid gave him a big tobacco-stained grin. "Well, I dunno if she can fight, but that girl sure can heal. She saved the lives of half the town this week!"

Denzel felt a surge of pride for his little sis. She really did have some talent.

A warm hand stroked down the back of his head and came to rest on his neck. He turned around to see Tifa with a characteristic look of concern on her face. She and Cloud must have snuck back on the bridge when Cid was talking.

"You look really tired," she said. "Have you been sleeping ok on this trip?"

"Oh," Denzel said. "Yeah, I didn't get to sleep any last night. Cloud was...out of it...and we weren't camped at the safest place."

Five pairs of eyes snapped to Cloud. Cloud, however, was looking at Denzel. "You fought off monsters to protect me all night?"

"Um, yeah," Denzel said, feeling suddenly shy, especially at the look of pride on Cloud's face. He didn't want to make it sound like more than it was. The night was half over by the time they crashed, and there were only a handful of stragglers that stumbled across their campsite.

Cloud gave him a rare warm smile. "Thanks, Denz. I owe you one."

Tifa took his hand and pulled at it gently. "Come on, sweetie. Let's find you a bed."

"No," Denzel said, pulling back his hand. "I mean, don't we have to debrief everyone?"

This was usually the time where they sent the kids out of the room. The other adults looked to Cloud and Tifa. They looked at each other, doing that thing where they communicated with their eyes. For the first time, Denzel wasn't annoyed by it. He wondered if he would ever be close enough to someone to be understood like that.

Finally, Cloud looked back at him. "Sure. You can stay for debriefing."

Feeling triumphant, Denzel sat down cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the glass that surrounded most of the bridge. He was holding back the exhaustion, but it was wearing on him.

Tifa started. "Two days ago, monsters started attacking Edge. At first I only saw one, so I took care of it myself. But then I found a few more. They were grassland monsters."

Denzel sucked in a breath. Grassland monsters were tough, and some of them were bigger than houses. It was mighty impressive that Tifa could take them down on her own.

"Marlene stood back and helped with healing and support spells. Once we finished those off, we ran into a dozen more, and I knew we were in trouble. That's when the head of the council called."

Tifa glanced over at Cloud. "He said that he hadn't been able to reach Cloud, and it was an emergency. I told them that he was on his way home already, and I knew he didn't usually answer his phone while he was driving."

Cloud and Denzel looked at each other uneasily. This must have been happening while they were sitting in their homemade hot spring, shooting the breeze.

"He asked me to meet at the town hall. Marlene and I avoided the rest of the monsters and ran there." Tifa rubbed her neck wearily. "The entire council was already assembled. Monsters had been popping up all over town and people were panicking."

Tifa started fidgeting with the wolf ring on her finger. It was something she did when she was anxious, and Denzel wondered what had suddenly tweaked her nerves. "A couple of injured people stumbled in while we were talking," she continued. "Marlene ran over and healed them without even being asked. The council was so impressed that they asked her to stay there and help out the wounded. They were organizing volunteers to gather everyone at the hall. It's the only reinforced building in Edge, and the monsters were plowing right through the houses."

Although he really wanted to know what happened to his town, debriefing wasn't as exciting as Denzel had expected, and he was quickly being dragged down. He rested his elbows on his knees and propped his head up on his hands.

Tifa continued talking. "I went back out to continue fighting, but more and more were appearing, and things just kept getting worse. There were others that tried to fight, but—" she grimaced and shook her head. "They weren't prepared for grassland monsters. They were being killed or too badly wounded to fight, and I spent more time trying to heal them than actually fighting. So I sent everyone else to the town hall."

Tifa took a breath and looked over at Cloud. Denzel recognized the telltale signs of stress that he knew would be there – the clenched jaw, the impassive face, the glowing eyes. He didn't like hearing that she had sent everyone away; it was an argument as old as their story. Tifa would always risk herself to protect everyone else, and Cloud would always get angry about it.

She held his gaze defiantly and continued. "I knew I just had to hold them off until Cloud got home, but then nighttime came and he still wasn't back. That's when I called him. He told me they were still a day out, and that I should call in the rest of you. So I did, and then I called Tseng. He brought in the Turks to help, and we fought off as many as we could, but there just weren't enough of us to cover the whole town. Marlene stayed at the town hall and healed all of the wounded people as they came in. Once the rest of the old crew showed up, we fought until they had all been cleared out."

Denzel's eyes drooped shut, and he forced them back open with an effort.

"What I wanna know," Cid said as he stubbed out his cigarette, "is how those &#$! things got into town in the first place. None of the walls were damaged. So where did they come from?"

"Yeah," Tifa said thoughtfully. "It was like they just appeared inside. I wonder…"

That was the last thing Denzel heard before the darkness pulled him under.

* * *

Denzel slept for the rest of the day and through the night. When he woke up in his own bed the next morning, it was to the nagging pain of hunger in his gut. He pulled on a shirt and some jeans and headed out in his bare feet.

The welcoming smell of behemoth bacon lured him down the stairs. Cloud didn't kill behemoth very often, but when he did, its meat lasted forever.

Tifa smiled at him as he sniffed his way over to the stove where she was flipping the meat in the pan. "Hey kiddo." She picked up a plate piled high with bacon. "Take this out to the table."

Denzel took the plate and crammed several in his mouth as he walked away. Tifa laughed. "Try to leave some for the others," she called after him.

Denzel hit the swinging door with his shoulder as he headed out to the bar area. Cloud and Barret sat at the table, already wolfing down waffles and some kind of egg bake. Denzel slid the half-empty platter of bacon onto the table and started piling food on his plate.

Barret chuckled. "Good to see he's got a healthy appetite."

Denzel ignored him and shoveled food into his mouth with his good hand. He was managing just fine with one hand to that point, but he ran into trouble when he came across a hard piece of fruit that was too large to eat whole. Hesitantly, he raised his left arm and tried to pick up the knife. It was hard to steer, so he used his right hand to move the arm into place, but he still couldn't get his fingers to open and curl around the handle of the knife.

Cloud set down his fork and gestured with his hand. "Pass it over."

Denzel sighed and gave up, picking up the plate with his right hand and giving it to Cloud.

"What happened to you, man?" Barret asked as Cloud cut everything on the plate into bite-sized pieces.

"Oh. I broke my arm and healed it up wrong," Denzel said. He was still a little embarrassed about it, and more than a little frustrated.

Barret held up his mechanical hand with a grin. "We'll have to get you one of these," he said. "You can make all yer friends jealous. I can switch it out with all kinds of attachments, ya know, not just the gun."

"Umm, no thanks," Denzel said as Cloud handed back his plate. He had really been hoping to make it to adulthood with all of his limbs intact. "I'm hoping Marlene can fix it. Where is she, anyway?"

"She's still sleeping," Cloud said. "But I'm not sure if she…uh…"

"What?" Denzel frowned. "She can do that thing where she sees inside of my arm, right? She'll be able to find all the places where it's messed up and fix it, right?"

"I know, but…" Cloud hesitated. "I'm not sure if she's going to feel up to it for a while."

Denzel dropped his fork, immediately alert. "What do you mean? What's wrong with her?"

Just then, the kitchen door swung open and a small girl walked in. No, not a small girl. _Marlene_. Except she looked like a skeletal version of the girl he'd grown up with.

Denzel pushed back his chair and rushed over to her. He pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Gaia, Marlene! What happened to you?"

Marlene turned her head away. "Oh…well apparently, it's not good for you to guzzle ethers like water."

Denzel held her at arm's length, trying to catch her eye. "Marlene? Why won't you look at me? You don't have to be ashamed of anything, you know. It doesn't matter to me how you look."

Marlene raised an arm up in front of her face. "No, it's not that."

Denzel blinked. "What is it then? Is there something else wrong with you?"

Marlene coughed weakly. "Not me. It's just…gods, you really stink."

Denzel took a step back, his face pink. "Sorry, Mar. I haven't had a shower in a while."

Marlene waved her thin arm in the air in front of her, fanning away the stench. She looked over at the two men at the table, who were watching the scene in amusement. "Gaia, how could you guys even eat with him sitting over there?"

Denzel threw up his hand as Cloud and Barret laughed. "All right, fine," Denzel huffed. "I can probably make it through a shower without starving to death. Maybe."

Marlene threw him a smile as he walked off, sulking. It was great to be home.

* * *

Denzel pushed against the tire with his foot, lazily rocking the tire swing that he'd outgrown years ago, but which easily fit his little sister again. He was sprawled out in the gravel behind Seventh Heaven, trying to get comfortable against the rocky ground. He already missed the grass from the camping trip.

Marlene's arms and legs dangled over the sides of the swing, and she closed her eyes as the wind played gentle games with her hair.

It had been years since they'd played in this swing, but he and Marlene used to spend hours out here when they were younger. This old tire had been their flying carpet, their horse, their hovercraft, and a million other things that let them escape the grim reality of their lives.

"Remember when we didn't have to go to school at _all_?" Denzel asked suddenly. "We played on this thing all day." School was supposed to have started back up two days ago, but it had been suspended temporarily while everyone worked on repairing the damaged town.

"Yeah," Marlene responded without opening her eyes. "Days were so long and boring back then."

"What?" Denzel raised himself up on his elbows. "Are you kidding? We had a blast back here!"

"We did," Marlene agreed. "But we had nothing to do. We spent all day, every day, trying to think of ways to pass the time."

Denzel lay back in the dirt again. "Yeah, I guess so." He continued gently pushing the tire swing with his foot. The rhythmic squeaking was lulling Marlene into a doze when he spoke again.

"So, what does Cloud think about your…um…condition? Are you going to get better?"

Marlene was still weak and sickly. Tifa had a bunch of exercises that she was making her do, and was still forcing her to drink those horrible shakes every 4 hours, but she hadn't seen much improvement yet. She still needed several naps to make it through the day, and her muscles started to shake after the slightest bit of exertion.

Before she could respond, Tifa poked her head out the back door of the bar. "Hey guys, it's time to get ready for the memorial ceremony."

"Ok," Denzel replied, stopping the tire with his foot.

Tifa went back inside. He stood and lifted Marlene out of the swing like a child. He was getting better at doing things with one arm, but it was still a struggle sometimes. He couldn't seem to figure out how to make his left arm work, so for the most part it hung uselessly at his side.

Marlene scowled when he held her for a moment too long. "I can _walk_ , Denzel."

"I know, I know," Denzel said, setting her on the ground.

She walked ahead of him into the kitchen of Seventh Heaven. Denzel sighed and trailed behind her. Tifa was busy at the counter, preparing some food for the reception after the memorial. She glanced up when he entered.

"Denzel, you shower first, but make it quick. I don't want to deal with a cranky Cloud all afternoon if he has to take a cold shower. Marlene, I'll help you take one when he's done."

"Tiiiiiifaaaaa," Marlene groaned. "I don't need help taking a shower!"

Denzel missed the rest of the argument as he climbed the stairs and shut the bathroom door. He really did try to take a quick shower, but everything took a whole lot longer with one arm. Twenty minutes later, he shut off the water and hoped Cloud would be late coming in from the reconstruction efforts.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded back to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Tifa had laid out his clothes for the memorial on the bed. He checked them out as he dried off with the towel. It didn't look too awful – a short-sleeved polo and plain brown pants.

He had to get his boxers from the drawer – thank the gods Tifa didn't pick those out for him, too – and pulled them on. On his way back to the bed, he caught a look at his reflection in the mirror. He was really starting to fill out. He flexed his muscles and admired himself from a few different angles. His arms and pecs were getting pretty defined. They didn't look like Cloud's or anything yet, but it really was a lot of work to swing that sword around. "Yeah, I work out a bit, Alicia…well, I don't wanna brag, but..."

A girlish giggle came through the thin wall separating his room from Marlene's. "Denzel? Are you like…posing in front of the mirror right now?"

"No!" Denzel yelled back as his face burned red. Marlene only laughed harder. "Shut up, Marlene," he said, throwing his pillow at the wall. Great. She was never going to let him forget this.

Her laughter followed her out into the hall. "Oh Alicia, I love you so much!" she said mockingly. She made loud kissy noises as she passed by his door.

Denzel glared in the direction of her voice. "You're such a child, Marlene!"

After her laughter had faded down the hall, he sighed and finished getting dressed. He went downstairs to find Cloud sitting up at the bar with a short glass of something dark in his hand. Denzel slid onto the stool next to him as Cloud swallowed the last of his drink. It smelled like whiskey. That wasn't a good sign.

"Sorry if I used too much of the hot water," Denzel said. "I tried to be quick."

Cloud tilted his head in Denzel's direction without looking at him. "I'll survive." He stood and brought the glass to the sink behind the bar, washing it with practiced efficiency and sliding it back on the shelf. Then he braced his hands on the sink and stood there with his head down.

"Cloud?" Denzel asked quietly. "Are you ok?"

Cloud lifted his head and shrugged. "Yeah. Just kind of heavy, you know? Going to the memorial for all those people who died because I wasn't here to…"

Denzel's stomach sank. He hadn't even really thought about that. Only he was so much more guilty than Cloud. Cloud had no way of knowing that something bad would happen to Edge, but _Denzel_ did. He had his reasons for keeping the secret from Cloud when they were at the cabin, but once they were on the road, once they were fooling around in the water, he should have told him. He should have said something about his suspicions. He should have given Cloud a reason, any reason, to get back on the road. So really, _he_ was the one who had kept Cloud from saving those people.

He understood then the weight of responsibility on Cloud's shoulders. Because he was the only one truly capable, he was expected to be there to save everyone at all times. He didn't ask for the job. He didn't even ask for the enhancements that made it possible. Maybe once upon a time he had wanted to be stronger to save a girl, but that didn't mean he wanted the rest of his life to be defined by it. He was quiet. He had a handful of close friends and would have been happy be invisible otherwise. But he would never be able to blend into a crowd again, at least not near Midgar. Denzel suspected that was the reason he liked his job so much. He spent the day alone with his machine, flying down the road. When he had to talk to strangers farther from here, he could just be an anonymous delivery man. So why did he stay in Edge, when he could do his job anywhere? Because of Tifa? Because of them?

"Denzel."

"Huh?" Denzel was snapped from his musings by Cloud's voice.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Oh, uh, sorry," Denzel said, blinking. "Just daydreaming."

"Mm. Ok. Well I'm gonna go take my cold shower," Cloud said, walking toward the kitchen door.

Denzel nodded. He had a little time to kill before they had to leave, and there was an itch in his head.

He climbed the stairs and settled onto his bed with his sketchpad. He opened it to his last drawing, the one of the shattered town square. He was still a little awed by the level of detail. It was like nothing he had ever done before. Maybe it was because he had let go and let the vision come out by itself. It wasn't fully formed in his head, so he didn't know what it was before he started. If he'd had more detail in his drawing of Marlene and the three girls, would he have been able to prevent whatever had happened to her in the Wasteland?

He still didn't know if it was possible to change the things he saw in his visions. They hadn't really changed what happened to Web, had they? He still ended up bleeding into the snow next to the wood pile. Maybe Denzel was meant to be there all along. Maybe the picture was just showing exactly what _did_ happen. He often didn't have all the details in the visions, so it wasn't a stretch to think that Denzel was actually there, but it was a detail that hadn't made it onto the drawing. Maybe it would have been completely different if they had left.

That brought him back to the town square. The memorial was being held there, next to the fully intact statue. The destruction in his picture never happened. Did that mean it would have happened if they had gotten home on time? Or did it just mean that he couldn't force the ability when he wanted it and the whole image just came from his imagination?

Denzel sighed and flipped to a clean page. He really didn't want to go down that rabbit hole right now.

He put the tip of his pencil to the paper. The image kicking around in his head was of Alicia. He let his hand take over and watched the image come to life in front of him. She was wearing a dark dress. Her head was bowed, and her dark hair hid most of her face. Her hands were folded in front of her, and every inch of her posture spoke of grief. Denzel gently traced his finger down her back on the sketch. As always, he could feel the emotions of the people in his drawings, and right then, he desperately wanted to comfort her.

He raised his head at the loud knock on his door. "Denzel, time to go." Cloud didn't wait for a response. His shoes tapped away down the stairs.

Denzel put away the sketch pad and made his way down to the bar. He came through the kitchen door and stopped to stare at his family. This was a sight he didn't see every day.

Cloud was actually wearing a tie, looking supremely uncomfortable. He wore shiny black shoes instead of his usual boots, and shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. He fidgeted with the knot in his tie.

Tifa pulled his hand away. "Stop messing with it, Cloud. It looks fine."

She wore low-heeled shoes and a sleeveless black dress that showed off her toned arms. She had her mother's teardrop earrings in, but no other jewelry. Her hair flowed loosely around her face in soft curls. Denzel thought she might have even been wearing a bit of makeup, which was pretty, but a little disconcerting to see on Tifa.

Marlene wore a blue sundress and sandals. Her hair had been pulled back into a fancy French braid with flowers woven into it. It almost hid the thin, brittle texture of her hair, but the little dress exposed her frail arms and legs. The sharp jut of her collarbone stood out above the neckline. When she was covered in baggy clothes, Denzel forgot just how much weight she had lost, but at that moment, she looked like a tiny, fragile doll. That little doll was putting up a heck of a fight right then, though.

"I do _not_ need to be carried," she insisted stubbornly.

"Honey, you'll be standing up on the stage for a while, and I don't want you to get too tired out," Tifa reasoned.

"I won't be too tired," Marlene said, exasperated. "I can walk _three_ _blocks_."

Cloud sighed. "We don't have time for this." He picked up Marlene and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Hey! Stop it! Cloud! Put me down right now!" Marlene kicked and struggled and pounded on Cloud's back.

"You know, she's just going to wear herself out faster like that," Denzel pointed out as he approached them.

Cloud growled and set her back on her feet. "Marlene! Please. You're not being reasonable."

"Look," Tifa said soothingly. "We'll just wrap the front of your skirt around your legs and he'll carry you on his hip. It will look totally dignified."

"No way," Marlene said, appalled. "I'm not three!"

"Why don't you just bring the car," Denzel suggested.

"Because it's three blocks away and we won't be able to park anywhere near it," Cloud said irritably.

"So why don't you drop them off and drive back here, and then we can walk. If Marlene isn't too tired after the ceremony, she can walk home."

They all looked at each other, waiting for someone to object. Finally, Cloud shrugged. "Ok."

The three of them left, and Denzel plopped down in a chair to wait. His mind couldn't escape the thoughts of the memorial. He knew that some people had been killed. What if they were people he knew? What if they were his friends? He hadn't wanted to think about it before, but it was time to face up to it. He would have to hear their names, see their pictures, and accept his role in these people's deaths.

Cloud returned a few minutes later and poked his head through the front door. "Let's go, Denz."

Cloud and Denzel walked together in silence. They were both brooding, both feeling guilty for their own reasons. When they got to the square, they looked over the half-filled chairs. Tifa and Marlene were in the front row, since they were being honored as part of the ceremony. Yuffie bounced on the seat next to them. Barret, Cid, and Nanaki had all been invited, but they had their own lives to get back to and had declined.

The sun was beginning to set, and it was already getting harder to see. The ceremony would be ending with a candlelight vigil for the victims of the attack, so it would be fully dark by the time they left. Cloud pointed out a couple of empty chairs near the back. Denzel nodded and they headed over there. They took their seats and waited for the rest to fill in.

"Hey Cloud," Denzel wondered aloud. "How come they never have ceremonies like this for you?"

Cloud snorted. "They tried to, at first, but I refused to come. After the first couple times, they didn't bother to ask anymore."

Denzel smiled and went back to looking around at the crowd. That was when he saw her. Two rows ahead and three chairs over, Alicia sat next to her mother. The chair to her left was empty, the last one in the row. She was wearing the black dress from his drawing. He couldn't see well enough to know what she was feeling right then, but the emotions from the picture came back to him, and he felt a strong need to comfort her.

"Is that her?" Cloud asked. "The girl you like?"

Denzel was startled to be caught staring. "Yeah," he said, shrugging shyly.

"Why don't you go sit by her?" Cloud suggested, leaning back in his chair.

Denzel recoiled. "No, I can't. Anyway, that chair is probably saved for her dad."

Cloud slowly shook his head. "I don't think her dad is coming," he said softly.

Denzel looked back at Alicia and her mother. They were both dressed in black, both sitting quietly, talking to no one. He hesitated. "I don't know if I would be welcome."

"Maybe not," Cloud shrugged. "But she looks to me like she could use some comfort."

Denzel pondered it for a while longer. "Are you sure it's ok? I don't want to just ditch you."

Cloud smothered a smile. "I'll manage."

Denzel nodded to himself, trying to work up the courage. He would normally have been too shy to act so boldly, but the sorrow from the picture wouldn't let him hide from it. "Ok. Ok. Here I go." With a surge of bravery, he stood up and walked over. He stood awkwardly at the end of the row. Alicia didn't even notice him. He cleared his throat. "Is it…um…can I sit here?" he stuttered.

Alicia squinted up at him in surprise. Her eyes were dry at the moment, but he could tell she'd spent a lot of time crying recently. He immediately regretted his bold move.

"Denzel?" She glanced over at her mother, but she didn't even seem to notice them.

_Stupid! Why did I listen to Cloud? She doesn't want to be around me when she's mourning her dad! Maybe she doesn't even like me anymore after I stood her up last week._

"Um, I mean, if you want to be alone, I can—"

"No, sit down," she said with a small smile.

Denzel swallowed back his nerves and sat down next to her. Success! Now he just had to figure out how to not make a fool of himself for the next two hours.

The ceremony started. The head of the council stood up and gave a speech about remembering the 19 souls who had fallen that day. He read off a list of names, and Denzel heard a small sniffle from Alicia. He looked over at her. She was trying to hide her face, but Denzel could tell that she was crying. The guilt came back in full force. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand. He held his breath and nudged his pinkie against hers, waiting, watching for a sign. She lifted her hand just slightly, letting him slide his underneath, linking her fingers between his. He let out the breath he had been holding. He needed the comfort as much as she did.

For a few minutes they sat there like that, with his hand held in her lap. Then, quietly, slowly, she moved her chair closer. She leaned her head hesitantly on his shoulder, and Denzel had to remind himself to relax. Her hair smelled of strawberry shampoo, just like in his fantasy, and he had to resist the urge to lean over and sniff it. After a few minutes, she tilted her chin up toward his ear.

"Denzel?" she whispered. "I-I didn't want you to see me like this, but…I'm really glad you're here."

For a few minutes, Denzel forgot his guilt. He was floating on a cloud. He had no idea what was happening onstage, and probably wouldn't even have noticed that Marlene was up there if Alicia hadn't lifted her head. "Denzel? Your sister doesn't look very good."

He blinked and looked up at the stage. Marlene was standing there with a portly woman and two other girls around her age. Her eyes were unfocused and her face was drained of all color. Tifa and Yuffie were behind her on the stage and wouldn't be able to see her. Marlene swayed slightly. Denzel gasped and jumped to his feet, knowing she was going to fall, but that he was never going to make it up there fast enough.

And then Cloud was there in front of her, swooping in to catch her as she fell. The crowd gasped and murmurs broke out, but Cloud ignored them. He cradled Marlene's tiny frame to his chest and looked back at Tifa, who had her hand over her mouth.

"I'm taking her home," he told her.

Tifa nodded and Cloud hopped off the stage with his bundle. Without looking back, he strode off into the darkness.

The chattering grew even louder and people craned their necks to see what was happening. The head of the council stepped back up to the podium.

"Ahem. Well, it seems that she's in good hands," he said, talking over the chatter. "Please, let us continue with the ceremony."

The talking died down and people returned to their seats. Tifa was making her way off the stage, looking worried.

Denzel let go of Alicia's hand. "I have to go," he said.

She nodded and gave him a small smile. "I hope she's ok. I'll…I'll see you at school?"

Denzel nodded and ran to meet Tifa.

* * *

When they burst through the front door of Seventh Heaven, they were greeted by Marlene, sitting at the bar with a bowl of ice cream. Her bare feet swung freely under the high bar stool. The color had returned to her face, and she would have looked perfectly normal if not for the disheveled French braid in her hair.

"Hey guys," she said cheerfully. "You didn't have to leave the ceremony. I just got a little dizzy. Cloud totally overreacted and wouldn't listen all the way home when I tried to tell him I was _fine_."

Tifa hurried over to her as if she hadn't said a word. She put a hand on Marlene's head to check her temperature, then tipped back her chin to get a good look at her eyes. Apparently satisfied with her findings, she sat down on the stool next to Marlene. Cloud stood on the other side of the bar, looking relieved to have Tifa taking control.

"Mar," she said. "Fainting for no reason is never fine. I _knew_ we should've stayed home tonight!" She pounded her fist on the bar and ran a hand through her hair, ruining her perfectly styled curls. "You _have_ to be honest with me when you're not feeling well, Marlene. If I can't trust you, I'll have to decide _for_ you when you can or can't leave the bar."

Marlene's bravado deflated. She slouched and put down her spoon. "I'm sorry. I guess I convinced myself I was fine because I really, _really_ wanted to go. I just want to feel normal again." She looked up at Tifa with such sadness in those big brown eyes, and Tifa didn't stand a chance.

"Oh, I know sweetie," Tifa said with a sigh. "But you can't do that anymore, ok? We might just set back any recovery you've made, and then it will be even longer until you're back to normal." She stood up, businesslike again. "I'm going to go get you another shake. You need nutrients, _not_ ice cream." She sent Cloud a disapproving look.

"Tiiiiifaaaa! Normal, remember?" Marlene begged. "Can I _please_ just finish my ice cream before I choke down another one of those raw sewage drinks?"

Tifa looked caught between hurt, compassion, and her better judgement.

"Tifa." Cloud said her name and she locked onto those bright blues. They looked at each other for a moment, words passing through time and space between their eyes.

Tifa blinked and looked back at Marlene. "Sure, honey. You can finish your ice cream. But then you need to drink the whole thing and then Cloud's going to carry you up to bed, ok?"

"Ok!" Marlene perked back up and dug into her ice cream again.

* * *

As the days rolled by, the cool spring days grew ever warmer. Tifa and Cloud spent a lot of time helping with the reconstruction, leaving Denzel and Marlene to hold down the fort. Due to their respective injuries, they were restricted from helping.

"Two more, Mar. Come on, you've got to do them all," Denzel said, pacing next to her.

Marlene growled at Denzel. "Who made you my personal trainer?" But she pushed through her last two leg lifts.

Watching Marlene struggle and fight through every day seemed to be Denzel's penance. With Cloud and Tifa so busy, he took it upon himself to enforce her recovery schedule as set by Tifa. But instead of feeling any kind of redemption, the guilt lingered on, digging deeper with every time he saw her wince in pain, or the exhaustion slip through her mask when she thought no one was looking.

But at least she seemed to be making some progress. For his part, Denzel was getting no better at controlling his left arm. He could swing a sword with one arm, but he was thrown off balance by the erratic movements of the other.

"Alright, time for your raw sewage," he announced. They were careful not to call it anything bad when Tifa was around anymore, but between the two of them, it would always be the nastiest thing they could stomach (or smell, in Denzel's case).

Marlene wrinkled her nose but followed Denzel into the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge side of the giant industrial fridge/freezer and pulled out the pitcher of the latest batch of the nutrition shake. Tifa seemed to be constantly adjusting the recipe, making it just a little different every time, and this batch was actually not horrible, but the kids kept up their nickname.

With the pitcher in his right hand, he reached over to close the fridge door. He looked over his shoulder at his sister. "Hey Mar, do you think—"

**_*SMASH*_ **

He hit the side of the fridge door with the pitcher, knocking it from his hand. The pitcher crashed to the floor, splattering smelly green ooze everywhere. The plastic pitcher didn't break, but Denzel's last nerve did.

"AAAHHHHHH!" He screamed in frustration. "This stupid—" he kicked the pitcher across the floor, splattering more green goo, "Useless—" he picked it up and hurled it against the wall, " _Worthless_ —" he threw it again, making a dent in the plaster, "MESSED UP ARM!"

Then he stormed out to the training room. For the moment, Marlene was the farthest thing from his mind. He needed to vent his frustration, Cloud-style. He grabbed one of the practice swords, not caring which, and dragged a practice dummy out of the storage room. He threw the dummy to the center of the training room floor and followed behind it, slashing and hacking and screaming. His hits were off-center, weak and ineffective, and it only fueled his anger more. He struck it, over and over, until his arm grew weak and tired, finally hurling the sword against the wall. He slumped down to the ground next to the dummy, breathing hard. Even bad hits took energy, and as exhaustion had crept in, he found he no longer had the energy to support his fury. The problem was, he still felt _bad_. It was just a dull bad feeling instead of explosive. Maybe Cloud's method wasn't so cathartic after all.

Denzel had no idea when he was no longer alone. He was completely taken by surprise when small fingers grasped his left wrist.

"Marlene? What are you doing?"

Marlene closed her eyes and wrapped both hands fully around his forearm.

"Hey, you shouldn't be—"

"Shh!" Marlene hissed. Her features snapped into irritation for just a second, and then smoothed back into the peaceful expression she wore when meditating. Denzel was shocked into submission.

She moved her fingers around his arm, gently prodding in different places. Her face screwed up into a look of confusion, and then shock. She opened her eyes and released him.

"Wow, Denz, you messed that up good." She shook her head sadly.

"What? What did you see?" he demanded.

"Well, it looks like you tore the muscle fibers and then reattached them to different ones. And some of those go to totally different muscles. And the nerves are mixed up all over the place. And the bones are fused, but they're not straight. How in the heck did you manage that?"

"I don't know," Denzel said irritably. "I just knew I was in pain and I knew I could heal myself, so I did! And anyway, you're not supposed to be doing that until you're well again. Where did you even get the restore materia? Did you take mine?" he demanded.

Marlene looked surprised, as if the thought hadn't occurred to her. "I didn't. I mean, I don't. I don't have any."

"Well then how did you just do that?"

"I—I don't know." Marlene looked as confused as he felt.

"Don't you use the materia to do that?"

"I just said, I don't know!" Marlene snapped.

"Ok, ok," Denzel said placatingly. "So…when did you figure out you could do it? Did Tifa teach you?"

"No," Marlene said, playing with a strand of hair. "She was as surprised as anyone the first time I did it. It was just like…like I always knew how to do it, but I didn't remember until I started using materia."

"Huh." Denzel stared at the floor and sank into his own thoughts. Was she born with that skill? Was there something different about Marlene? He knew nothing about her real parents, except that they were killed when she was very young. What if she wasn't fully human or something? Maybe she was a totally different species. He thought through the characters he knew of from his comics, looking for one with skills like Marlene's. Maybe the stories were based on truth. Maybe there was actually—

"It smells like flowers," Marlene said suddenly.

"What?" Denzel stared at her frankly. "How can an ability smell like anything?"

"No," she corrected herself. "It's more like a memory. A memory of a smell."

"Like, from when you were really little?" Denzel asked. "Before Barret brought you to Midgar? What do you know about your real parents?" he asked, starting to get excited about his theory. "Are they definitely from this planet? Did they have some kind of powers, too? Maybe they got killed because of those powers. Or maybe they were just kidnapped and their death was faked! Maybe the flowers you remember weren't flowers at all!"

Marlene dropped the piece of hair and stared at him. "Denz, you really need to get out more. Seriously? Aliens and superheroes?" She scoffed. " _Shinra_ killed my parents. Along with half of the people in my hometown. And they were miners, just like everyone else. They weren't there trying to blend in with the humans." Marlene rolled her eyes.

"Ok, fine!" Denzel said defensively. "But you have some kind of unique power, and I know you didn't smell flowers _here_ because they don't grow in Midgar."

Marlene's eyes lit up. "Yes they do! They grew in that that old destroyed church!"

"Oh yeah," Denzel said, frowning. "Yeah, that was weird. I still don't know how they grew there."

But things were starting to fall into place in Marlene's head. "And her house. They were at her house, too."

"What? Whose house?" Denzel asked.

"She came to get me. Before the sector 7 plate fell, she came to get me. She took me to her house. Her mom fed me cookies."

"What? Marlene, you're not making sense. Are you feeling ok? Do I need to call Tifa?" He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.

She shoved them away irritably. "I'm fine, Denzel. Just let me think."

The memory was hidden in the corner of her mind, covered in dust, but once she tugged at it, colors and sounds and yes, the smell of flowers came spilling out.

Marlene closed her eyes, focusing on the scene unfolding behind her eyelids. "We sat on the floor in her room. Her room was full of pink, and she smelled of flowers." She smiled softly as warm feelings overflowed from the memory. "She taught me how to do a braid and let me practice on her hair. I taught her the secret handshake Daddy showed me. She swore she would never forget it. It was like having the big sister I always wanted."

She frowned thoughtfully. "But then she got serious. She held my hands and looked into my eyes and said something weird."

_'You have the ability to see into others' hearts. You see past the masks they put up.'_

"I asked her what she meant, but she just shook her head."

_'Someday you'll understand. But they'll be here soon, and I want to give you something.'_

"She leaned her forehead against mine and I felt…different. I told her I felt funny, and she just smiled."

_'My time is almost up, but you have many years ahead. Use it well, Marlene.'_

"I asked her if she was old or sick, and she laughed. Her laughter sounded like jingling bells."

_'Neither, but I have a part to play, little one.'_

"I asked if she was going to be in a play, but then there was this really loud sound outside, like a broken fan. She stood up and brushed off her dress."

_'It's time for me to go now. We'll meet again, Marlene.'_

"And then there was a knock on the door, and she went downstairs. I ran to the window to see what was making the noise." Marlene furrowed her brow, reconciling her 4-year-old memory with her 12-year-old knowledge. "I didn't know what it was back then, but it was a helicopter. A Shinra helicopter. I watched it fly away, and then I went downstairs. Her mom was crying."

The memory of her sorrow affected Marlene as much now as it had back then. "The only thing I could think about was making her feel better. I asked if she wanted a hug and a cookie, because that's what Daddy used to ask me when I got hurt and cried. She wiped off her face and smiled, and said she'd take one of each."

"Soooooo…" Denzel drew out the word. "Are you telling me that the flower girl taught you how to do it?"

"No." Marlene shook her head. "I'm telling you that she _gave_ it to me."

The front door closed loudly, and they both jumped up. Denzel grabbed his sword and practice dummy and hauled them back to the storage area. Marlene chased after him.

"Denzel," she whispered as he hurriedly put away the equipment. "Don't tell Tifa where I got it, ok?"

"Why not?" he asked. He didn't even bother to whisper.

"Because I…well, I'm not sure why, but Tifa always acts a little weird when someone mentions her. And she looks at Cloud a lot. So just don't, ok?"

"Denzel! Marlene! Get in here!" Tifa called out from the kitchen. She sounded angry – like she might be about to go into Ranting Tifa mode.

It was then that Denzel remembered that the practice room was really not the mess he should have been worried about. With a sense of impending doom, he prepared himself to face the wrath of Tifa over the green mess that was the kitchen.

Denzel wasn't sure if she was about to start crying or yelling, but she was certainly struggling to stay calm. He winced as his eyes roamed over the devastation. He didn't think it was possible, but it was actually worse than he remembered.

"Look, guys," she started tightly. "I know this stuff doesn't smell great, or taste great, but Marlene needs it if she's going to get better."

Her voice started rising – definitely leaning toward ranting now.

"These ingredients are really hard to get, and they're really expensive, and the special market where I get them won't be open again until next Tuesday."

Her face turned red and she started shaking. Yep – about to go nuclear.

"So you can't just _dump it out_ so you don't have to deal with it. I thought you guys were _responsible_ enough to DRINK IT ON TIME WITHOUT—"

"Whoa!" Cloud took a giant step over a puddle of thick green goop in front of the kitchen door. "What's going on in here? Looks like a giant booger explosion or—" he caught the look on Tifa's face and wisely closed his mouth.

"It's not _funny_ , Cloud! Do you know how hard it is to get all this stuff and—"

"Yeah, Teef, I know," Cloud said, smiling gently. He took her hands from her hips and squeezed them. "Let me take care of this, ok?"

"But how are we going to—" Tifa interrupted.

His eyes locked on hers and his voice grew softer. "I'll take care of it. And I'll deal with Denzel. Why don't you and Marlene go for a drive? Show her how far we've gotten with the reconstruction."

Tifa was beginning to lose steam. "But this is _important_. If she doesn't—"

"Tifa. Trust me?" It was almost a whisper this time.

Tifa let out her breath and closed her eyes. "I trust you, Cloud."

Denzel never quite could get over the way Cloud was able to take her from mach 10 to zero like that in seconds when he could barely stand to make small talk with the grocer.

Tifa opened her eyes and held out her hand to Marlene. "Let's go, Marlene. I've got something special to show you."

Cloud watched them leave the kitchen. Denzel stood behind him, wondering how Cloud was going to be able to fix this. He prayed it wasn't something crazy like scooping the mess on the floor back into the pitcher.

"How were you so sure it was me?" Denzel asked quietly to his back.

Cloud turned around calmly, his eyes flickering over the mess. "Oh, _this_ has angry rage written all over it. Not really Marlene's M.O." He gestured to the kitchen table. "So sit. Talk."

Denzel stepped around the mess as much as possible and sank into a kitchen chair. Cloud sat across from him and assessed him coolly. Gaia, those eyes were intimidating when he looked at him like that. Denzel almost wished Tifa would come back in and start ranting right about now.

"Well?" Cloud prodded.

"What do you want me to say?" Denzel asked.

"I want to know what you were raging about."

"Oh." Denzel looked down. "It was just an accident at first. I'm having a hard time getting used to only using one arm. So I accidentally hit it against the fridge door and dropped it. And then…I dunno. I was just so frustrated and sick of dealing with it."

"And?" Cloud prompted.

"And…nothing. Why isn't that enough?"

"Denzel." Cloud leveled him with his eyes. "I know you. There's something else bothering you."

Denzel felt like he was being stripped naked under the force of those eyes. He was afraid Cloud could see every bad deed he'd ever done, so he lowered his eyes. "I just feel…guilty."

Cloud leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Guilty? For what?"

"For…I guess…for having fun on our trip when all this was happening. For sitting at the river all day instead of coming home. And being with Marlene every day, seeing her struggle, it's like I just can't forget and move on."

Denzel chanced a glance up and was surprised by the hurt reflected in Cloud's eyes.

"Those are my burdens to bear, Denzel. I was the one driving and calling the shots. It was my choice to stay, not yours. Why would you feel guilty about that?"

Now Denzel felt ten times worse. Instead of admitting his real guilt, he had skirted around the truth and just poured salt in Cloud's wounds.

"But you didn't know!" Denzel protested.

"Neither did you," Cloud countered. "Right?"

"I just…I could've…I mean, if I'd said that we should leave, you would have, wouldn't you?"

Cloud shook his head. "Alright. If you don't want to tell me, that's your choice." He stood up and looked at the mess, running a hand through his spikes. "We still need to fix this."

Denzel slumped in the chair. "How do we fix it? Tifa said the market doesn't open until next week."

"If they're not bringing their stuff to the market, I'll just have to go to them." Cloud stepped carefully across the slippery floor and pulled open a drawer. There, in Tifa's careful handwriting, was a list of the ingredients of her most recent concoction and the stalls from which she purchased them. "I need to make some calls. _You_ are going to clean up this mess. Then you're going to scrub the whole kitchen – walls, floors, counters, appliances – the whole works. Since spilling it was an accident I'll let that slide, but _that_ ," he pointed at the dent in the wall, "you will need to pay for." He turned and walked up the stairs.

Denzel groaned as he surveyed the kitchen. He had a lot of cleaning to do.


End file.
